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"o X 



The Secret of Success 



OR 



FINGER POSTS 

ON THE 

HIGHWAY OF LIFE. 

By John T. Dale, 

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 

JOHN V. FAR WEILL, 

w Not what 1 have, but what I do, is my kingdom," — Cartyle. 




NEW YORK: 
12 Bible House, Astor Place 



FLEMING H. RETELL, 

CHICAGO. 
14S and 150 Madison Street 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18S9, by 
FLEMING H. REVELL, 
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



TO ALL 

THOSE ASPIRING SOULS 

WHO ARE STRUGGLING TO ATTAIN 

TRUE DEVELOPMENT OF MIND AND HEART, SUCCESS 

IN LIFE, AND HAPPINESS HERE AND 



RESPECTFULLY 



(©ONIFENIIS. 



Have a Purpose . 
Tact _"■'.. 

Make Ready for Opportunity 

Enthusiasm _ 

Rely on Yourself 

What Minutes Are Worth 

The Price of Success 

Choice of Companions _ 

Enjoy Life as You Go 

Little Things . 

Bodily Vigor _ 

Drink and Its Doings . 

Make Home Attractive 

The Mission of Music . 

A Sunny Temper 

Be Patient .... 

Building Character _ 

What Reading Will Do 

What to Read . . . 

How to Read . 

Perils of Skepticism 

Study of the Bible 

The Christian Life . 

A Talk to Boys ... 

A Talk to Girls 

Leaving Home ... 

Female Society 

Woman's Sphere and Mission 

Marriage _ 

The Mother's Influence 

Influence of Children 

Training Children _ 

Be Kind 



Page. 


Page. 


7 


Kindness to Animals . 


230 


12 


The Secret of a Happy Life 


239 


*9 


Love of the Beautiful 


246 


22 


How to Be Beautiful 


248 


27 


Manners and Dress . 


253 


30 


Mock Modesty . 


257 


40 


Make the Most of Yourself 


259 


46 


Guard the Weak Spot 


263 


51 


How Great Men Have Risen 


266 


56 


A Literary Life ... 


269 


6l 


Public Speaking 


276 


64 


The Lawyer ... 


290 


71 


The Preacher ... 


299 


78 


The Teacher ... 


306 


84 


Your Duty in Politics 


312 


87 


True Culture and Progress 


317 


93 


Good Talkers and Talking _ 


323 


100 


Consolation For the Dull 


335 


107 


Stage Struck _ 


34° 


115 


How Shall We Amuse Our- 




120 


selves • _ 


344 


130 


What Shall Be Done with the 




142 


Boys? .... 


348 


148 


What Shall Be Done with the 




161 


Girls? .... 


353 


168 


Shall I Send to College? 


357 


i 7 3 


What Young Men Have Done 


36i 


176 


What Pluck Can Do . 


366 


184 


Hard Work Better Than 




190 


Genius _ 


373 


200 


The Perils of Overwork _ 


378 


214 


How to Keep Well 


383 


225 


The Sin of Worry _ 


390 




Our Heavenly Home 


394 



E^EFAGE. 




OR many years the author has been 
gathering from various sources the 
material for this work, and has had 
in mind the plan which he has carried out in 
this volume. 

This work was not conceived as a mere whim, 
without a purpose, but was begun with the 
earnest desire to assist those who are striving to 
gain character, intellectual power, business suc- 
cess; and the merited esteem of their fellow men. 

To the young, it aims to bring radiant hope, 

« 

wise counsel, and friendly warning ; to those in 
middle life, practical suggestions and hearty en- 
couragement ; and to the aged, calm and sooth- 
ing reflection. 

The author has not lacked opportunities for 
observation. Coming from a country home to 
the great metropolis of the Northwest, he has 
been for many years in the whirl of a busy life ; 
he has seen the growth and development of sue- 



PREFACE. 



cessful careers, the overthrow of great financiers 
and fortunes, and the accumulation of great 
wealth by men of humble beginnings. He has 
had the opportunity of knowing that many men 
become involved in financial or moral ruin : 
not because they lack ability or good intentions, 
but because, away back, they did not have the 
word of caution or advice which might have 
turned the course of their lives, and led them up- 
ward instead of downward. 

A wise maxim, or rule of business, has saved 
many a fortune ; a word of caution has saved 
many a precious life, and a word of warning 
many a soul. 

That such maxims and words may be foujid 
within these pages, and that many may take, 
counsel and courage from them, is the sincere 
desire of 

The Author. 



INTRODUCTION. 

By John V. Farwell. 

Every young man who is desirous of making his 
life bud, blossom, and become fruitful in all that is 
good and sublime, should remember these two things 
— that goodness is the foundation upon which sub- 
limity rests, and that he must dedicate every power of 
body and mind to achieve a result so glorious. In 
other words, he must make a business of it. 

This result was never awarded to man simply be- 
cause he asked for it, nor has it ever fallen out by 
chance, nor been given as the consequence of unin- 
telligent labor. 

It is a great blessing to have inherited a good con- 
stitution and strong mental characteristics. They 
make a splendid capital for investment. But after all, 
it is the labor and the struggle of the man, in their 
investment and use, that bring the priceless return. 

General Grant was probably born a soldier. But 
study the profound mental exertion which he put forth 
to make those natural gifts crush the most powerful 
rebellion against constitutional government that ever 
broke the peace of nations ! See that exhibition of 
the concentrated energy of his will, when he replied 
to General Buckner's request for him to name the con- 
ditions for the surrender of Fort Donelson : 

" Unconditional surrender, or I will move upon 
your works!' 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

The far-sighted Lincoln beheld in this expression, 
the revelation of the greatest soldier of the age, and 
he advanced him as rapidly as possible to the com- 
mand of all the armies. 

Such revelations as this, of mental power and pur- 
pose are always detected by men in commanding posi- 
tions, and they are ever on the lookout for young men 
to carry out their plans. 

There are more great opportunities than there are 
great men. Some one who has a place of power to 
bestow, will give it to you, if you have the capacity to 
fill it. There's always room on the "top shelf'' 

The author of this book presents the names of 
Lincoln, Grant and Garfield, as proofs to all ambitious 
young men, that they need not be discouraged at find- 
ing themselves in a lowly position. These heroes 
worked their way up from obscurity into the most 
powerful place of usefulness the world has ever known, 
by carefully and conscientiously using the talents 
which God had given them. These were eminently 
self-made men, after God's fiat had made them of the 
right material. Modest to a fault, they worshiped 
not themselves as makers of their own fortunes, but 
the God who had endowed them with the power to 
do it. 

These names are given here as cotemporary with 
the young men who will read this book, while there 
are hundreds of others of all ages and nations, whose 
names have been introduced into the pages of history 
to let the light of their example so shine, that bor- 
rowed rays may reflect the perfect man upon the 
minds of to-day's youthful aspirants. 



INTRODUCTION. Vll. 

That nation has reason for pride and hope which 
sees a generation of young men growing up who are 
marked by lofty purposes and a noble character. 

No nation has had to form the character of her 
sons under greater disadvantages than ours. 

For many years Europe has used America for a 
dumping ground, into which she has cast her moral 
and political refuse. 

At a recent 4th of July celebration in London, 
where three hundred American delegates to the 
World's Sunday School Convention met to confess 
their patriotism, an eminent Englishman said that the 
strongest proof of our national greatness was in our 
ability to make good citizens out of such wretched 
material. 

I reminded him of the terrible earnestness of our 
purpose to do this, as revealed in the execution of the 
Chicago anarchists. The significance of that tragic 
event lay in the determination to make these men an 
example to all those who refused to adopt the lofty 
standard of American citizenship. 

Beside this great obstacle to the development of a 
noble generation of young men, we may place an- 
other, not less difficult to surmount. I refer to that 
pernicious literature with which American greed for 
gain is flooding our land, and which panders to all 
the natural lusts of youth. 

Yellow covered novels, police expositions of crime, 
unblushing publications of infidel and atheistic views, 
are being circulated with enormous rapidity, and are 
steadily corrupting the rising generation. It is sad 
and discouraging to see the railroad news agents em- 



Vlll INTRODUCTION. 

ployed in their dissemination, and I trust that this vol- 
ume may be placed in their hands for sale, and that 
the same persevering energy which has through this 
same agency, distributed no less than 100,000 of D. 
L. Moody's books, may make such works displace the 
vile trash too often sold to the young and innocent. 

The author of this work has evidently made a suc- 
cessful effort to furnish another antidote for this worse 
than light literature. It is an inspiration itself to 
read this volume, and to feel, in reading, that it is 
the prophecy of myriads of other readers among the 
young, who will catch the inspiration of its pages and 
lay such a foundation of character as cannot fail to 
demonstrate the secret of successful living. 

I often look with pity upon young men who sit 
reading on the trains, such works as cannot but pro- 
duce moral and mental corruption. 

They say they are only u killing time ;'' but in re- 
ality are killing the best things in themselves. 

Follow that young man over there, who is so ab- 
sorbed, and whose excited face reveals the inward 
tumult of his heart — follow him, I say, for the next 
few years, and you will soon discover that he has be- 
come an actor in the scenes of folly or vice, about 
which he is now only a reader. His sallow face, his 
bleared eyes, his wasted form, will tell you plainer 
than words, the dreadful experiences through which 
these books have led him. 

Just across the aisle from him is another young 
man who would scorn to read the stories of lust ; but 
he has seized upon and is devouring a noted infidel's 
attack upon the Scriptures. He follows the great 



INTRODUCTION. IX 

skeptic as he skillfully eliminates the supernatural — 
the very spinal column — from the frame work of 
that venerable book, leaving it only a shape- 
less jellyfish. See him sneer as he reads this ven- 
omous assault upon the story of Lazarus! He joins 
Herod, the murderer of Jesus, and again crucifies the 
Son of God afresh. He is a philosopher ! He be- 
lieves only what can be seen and heard ! But alas, in 
a few short years, when trouble comes, the poor fel- 
low finds himself drifting on life's sea, without chart, 
compass, or anchor. Our country is full of such vic- 
tims of pernicious literature. 

It were well if such young men could read the 
1 2th chapter of the Book of Acts, and follow up that 
reading with a study of the church statistics of to-day. 
They will be the best answer to speculative infidelity, 
and show whether the " gates of hell" are prevailing 
against the kingdom of Jesus Christ. 

Let me ask you to look at one other young man 
on this same train. He has in his hand and is 
greedily devouring it, some standard history or 
treatise on some scientific question. All his fac- 
ulties are awake, and he grapples with great prob- 
lems. A few short hours ago he opened the door of 
the old farmhouse where he had been carefully 
reared, and started out to achieve a career. His 
mother followed him to the gate, imprinted her fare- 
well kiss upon his lips and with tearful eyes bade him 
read good books, associate with good companions, and 
allow himself only pure amusements. He looks as if 
he had determined to follow that advice, and if he does, 



X INTRODUCTION. 

you may be sure that it will not be many years before 
he will occupy an enviable place in the world, 

Good books, good companions, pure amusements 
and noble purposes ! — Ah, young men, keep them 
always in your hearts. Above all other books, cherish 
the old Bible. 

I often think of the remark of one of England's 
greatest men : " I have," said he, " objects in life so 
deeply interesting as they proceed, and so full of 
promise as to the magnitude of their results, that 
they ought to absorb my whole being. I would not 
exchange objects in life with any living man." 

The author of these words accomplished the abo- 
lition of slavery in the British colonies by act of Par- 
liament. 

Reader, you may never have the opportunity to 
accomplish results of such magnitude, but you can 
achieve a noble life. An unseen violet is no less beau- 
tiful than one which every eye beholds. A work is 
no less great, although its author is forgotten or un- 
known. Do your work for God, the author of your 
being, and he will reward you if it is well done. 

I hope and I believe that the end which the 
author of this book so earnestly and so wisely aims at 
— the ennobling of the moral natures of young men, 
will be, to a large degree, accomplished by its whole- 
some, truthful pages, and thus prove a true finger-post 
to the real secret of success. 



THE SECRET OF SUCCESS. 

I?AYE A ©UI^POSB. 




DESCRIPTION has been given of some 
explorers in the Arctic regions who found 
a vessel whose crew was frozen into statues 
of ice. The helmsman was at his post with 
his hand on the helm; the captain was at his log book, 
the pen in his fingers, with which he had written the 
words, " For a whole day the steward has been trying 
in vain to kindle the lost fire.'" Below, the form of the 
steward was found, with flint and tinder in his hands, 
while on the deck, was the watchman, looking off, — 
his frozen eyes fixed with the gaze of despair. They 
had the form and attitude of living men, but that only. 
This might be used as an illustration of those who 
live without a purpose; they have the forms, the 
features, the organisms of the living, but their lives 
are stagnated and petrified by the dead inertia of list- 
lessness and inaction. 

7 



HAVE A PURPOSE. 



Samuel Johnson, the great moralist, said: " Life, 
to be worthy of a rational being, must be always in 
progression; we must always purpose to do more and 
better than in past times. The mind is elevated and 
enlarged by mere purposes, even though they end as 
they begin, by airy contemplation. We compare and 
judge, though we do not practice. 1 '' 

There is a saying, " Aim high; but not so high as 
not to be able to hit anything." 

Some writer has said: " A highly successful career 
must have some one aim above every other. Jacks-of- 
all-trades are useful in many ways, but their very ver- 
satility operates against their winning great success in 
any line. The specialists succeed best. Whatever 
the specialty be, the concentration of effort which it 
demands accomplishes much. True success depends 
on deciding what really is the highest object in life, 
and what the relative value of other objects, and on 
the proportioning of efforts accordingly." 

It is a sad truth that u The greater part of all the 
mischief of the world, comes from the fact that men do 
not sufficiently understand their own aims. They 
have undertaken to build a tower, and spend no more 
labor on the foundation than would be necessary to 
erect a hut." 

The scientist, Louis Agassiz, when asked by a friend 
why, with his ability, he was satisfied with so small 
an income, said, " I have enough, I have no time to 
make money. Life is not sufficiently long to enable a 



HAVE A PURPOSE. 9 

man to get rich and do his duty to his fellow-men at 
the same time." His purpose in life was to be a 
teacher, and an expounder of Nature; and no tempta- 
tion of mere money getting could swerve him from his 
course. 

Canon Farrar thus forcibly illustrates this thought: 
" One of the great English writers, when he went to 
college, threw away the first two years of his time in 
gossip, extravagance and noise. One morning one of 
the idle set whom he had joined, came into his room 
before he had risen, and said, ' Paley, you are a fool. 
You are wasting your time and wasting your chances. 
Your present way of going on is silly and senseless. 
Do not throw away your life and your time.' That 
man did what a friend ought to do, and saved for 
England and for the Church the genius and services of 
a great man. i I was so struck with what he said,' 
says Paley, 'that I lay in bed till I had formed my 
plan. I ordered my fire to be always laid over-night. 
I rose at five, read steadily all day, allotted to each 
portion of time its proper branch of study, and thus, 
on taking my bachelor's degree, I became senior 
wrangler.' It was something to make this intellectual 
resolve, and so redeem a life from meaningless frivolity; 
but how infinitely more important is it to do so mor- 
ally, to rouse ourselves, ere it be too late, from the 
criminal folly and frivolity of moral indifference ! The 
means are open to us all. They are seriousness, 
thought, prayer, a diligent endeavor to obtain and 



IO HAVE A PURPOSE. 

rightly use the abounding grace of God. May every 
one of us who is already trying to walk aright, make 
his resolve to go straight on. May every one of us 
who is wavering in his choice, decide at once and for- 
ever. May every one of us who has gone astray, 
struggle back, ere it be too late, to the narrow path. 

" That is the sum of a noble life. To act thus is the 
loftiest of all objects. And, as it is the loftiest of all 
objects, so it is likewise the richest of all rewards. It 
is to serve God here and to enjoy him forever in heaven 
hereafter." 

At the battle of the Alma, in the Crimean war, one 
of the ensigns stood his ground when the regiment re- 
treated. The captain shouted to him to bring back 
the colors, but the ensign replied, " Bring the men up 
to the colors." 

So in the battle of life, let us plant ourselves on a 
high, noble purpose, never to abandon it in retreat, but 
to hold fast our ground to victory. It has been truly 
said that " great minds have purposes, others have 
wishes," and that, " The most successful people are 
those who have but one object and pursue it with great 
persistence." "The great art," says Goethe, "is to 
judiciously limit and isolate one's self." 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge was a man who possessed 
a loveable heart and one of the finest intellects of any 
man in his age. He had a descriptive power and a 
flow of language that was remarkable. Christopher 
North, his contemporary and critic, speaks of his con- 



HAVE A PURPOSE. II 

versation as "eloquent music without a discord; full, 
ample, inexhaustible, almost divine. 1 ' In his loftiest 
moods he spoke like one inspired. The ear was de- 
lighted with the melodious words that flowed from 
" an epicure in sound. 1 ' But there was little nourish- 
ment in these musical utterances of one who seemed 
to have given himself up to "the lazy luxury of 
poetical outpouring." And this great man with all 
his marvelous powers was a failure, and disap- 
pointed the expectations of his friends, because he 
lacked a purpose in life. He was indolent, became 
addicted to the use of opium, which destroyed mind 
and body, and his life went out embittered and cheer- 
less. Such a life is a warning 1 to all who rely on gen- 
his and inspiration for success instead of steady appli- 
cation and industry. 

We shape ourselves the joy or fear 
Of which the coming life is made, 

And fill our Future's atmosphere 
With sunshine or with shade. 

The tissue of the life to be 

We weave with colors all our own ; 

And in the field of Destiny, 
We reap as we have sown. 

— Whittier. 




(&AGJF. 



ACT has been defined "as the judicious use 
of our powers at the right time." It is that 
priceless discretion which makes the wise 
man to differ from the fool ; that invaluable 
knowledge by which we know how to make the world 
about us a stepping-stone to our success, and all the 
conditions around us but so many rounds in the ladder 
by which we rise. 

It is said that on one occasion the first Napoleon rode 
in advance of his army and came to a river over which 
it was necessary that it should pass. There was no 
bridge, but the imperious commander was not daunted 
by this obstacle, and immediately began preparations 
to cross it. Calling his engineer, he said, " Give me 
the breadth of this stream.'" "Sire, I cannot," was the 
reply. "My scientific instruments are with the army, 
and we are ten miles in advance of it." The great 
Emperor repeated his command, " Tell me the breadth 
of this stream instantly." " Sire, be reasonable." The 
indomitable general replied, " Ascertain at once the 
width of this river, or you shall be deposed from your 
office." Now comes the triumph of tact, for the en- 
gineer proved himself equal to the emergency. He 
drew down the cap piece on his helmet till the edge of 

12 



it just touched the bank on the other side of the river, 
and then turned around carefully on his heel, and 
marked the point where the cap piece touched the 
ground on the side of the river where he stood. He 
then paced the distance, and turning to the Emperor 
said, " This is the breadth of the stream, approx- 
imately." He had tact, and was at once promoted 
for the success of his ready and simple expedient. 
That engineer might have had the most profound 
knowledge of mathematics, and of all the abstruse and 
complicated details incident to his profession, but with- 
out tact all would have been of no avail. 

One of the greatest triumphs of Daniel O'Connell 
was in the management of a witness, during which he 
revealed wonderful tact. He was employed by parties 
interested in a will, which they suspected to be fraudu 
lent, to investigate the matter at the time it was being 
proven. He noticed that one of the witnesses repeated 
several times the words " that life was in the testator 
when he signed the will." " Now," said O'Connell, 
" will you swear that there was not a live fly in the dead 
man's mouth when his hand was placed on the will?" 
The witness, terror-stricken at the discovery of the in- 
iquitous scheme, fell on his knees, and confessed that 
it was so. 

Precisely the same quality is needed in the practical 
concerns of life, — a business man comes to an obstacle 
which appears insurmountable; he must have tact to 
make use of his resources so as to overcome it, or he 



14 TACT. 

may be overwhelmed with destruction. And not only 
in business affairs, but in the every-day concerns of 
life, tact is needed to smooth over difficulties and to 
make the best of untoward circumstances. 

Byron, who was not only a great poet, but an acute 
observer of men and things, says: " A man may have 
prudence, justice, temperance and fortitude, yet, want- 
ing tact, may and must render those around him un- 
comfortable, and so be unhappy himself. I consider tact 
the real panacea of life, and have observed that those 
who most completely possess it are remarkable for feel- 
ing and sentiment, while, on the contrary, the persons 
most deficient in it are obtuse, frivolous or insensible. 
To possess tact it is necessary to have fine perception 
and to be sensitive." 

Tact is one of the qualities of great minds, and 
makes them master of all situations. No place so 
awkward but that it puts one at his ease, no combina- 
tion of circumstances so complex and embarrassing 
but what it can control and regulate. When the im- 
mortal Shakespeare was acting in one of his own inim- 
itable plays before Queen Elizabeth, she occupied a 
box near the stage, and purposely dropped her hand- 
kerchief on the stage to see whether the great dramatist 
would be discomposed. But he had a native tact, and 
proved himself readier than all the heroes he created, 
for he saw the fallen handkerchief, and calmly said, as 
if the words were in the play, " And now, before we 
further go, we will pick up our sister's handkerchief,' 1 



TACT. 1 5 

and then advanced, picked it up and presented it to 
the queen, who bowed, pleased with the tact and 
presence of mind of the great bard. 

The late Dr. Guthrie was once preaching in a large 
church in Edinburgh, which was crowded with a fash- 
ionable congregation. After the psalm was given out 
the leader of the music started a tune, but it would 
not go to the words. He tried another, but with no 
better success. The poor man was now completely 
bewildered, but tried a third, and broke down. In 
this embarrassing dilemma, which threatened to dis- 
compose the audience and to spoil the entire ser- 
vice, Dr. Guthrie showed his ready tact, and rising, 
said, " Let us pray," and the awkward mishap was 
over. 

How often, by a single stroke of tact, has an ordi- 
nary accident or circumstance been made to pave the 
way for a grand success. Mr. Coutts, the founder of 
the great bank which has since become so enormously 
rich, by exercising a little tact, laid the foundation of 
his extended patronage. He sent word to a distin- 
guished peer, who, he had heard, had been refused a 
loan of ten thousand pounds, to call at his office. The 
peer, much surprised, called, and Coutts offered to 
make the loan. " But I can give no security," said 
the nobleman. " Your lordship's note of hand will be 
quite sufficient," was the prompt reply. The loan was 
accepted, and five thousand pounds was left on deposit. 
The story soon became widely circulated, other peers 



1 6 TACT. 

transferred their funds, and then the king, after a per- 
sonal interview with the banker, being pleased with 
his modesty and intelligence, placed the royal funds 
in the institution, and thus it became the favorite 
bank of the aristocracy. True, it may be said that 
this was a bold experiment, and contrary to safe bank- 
ing rules, but it must be remembered that it is the 
province of tact to undertake and accomplish that 
which others think impossible, and it requires as much 
tact to know what to do, as how to do it. 

One of the remarkable qualities of Bismarck, the 
great German statesman, is his ready tact. By this 
he has managed men and manipulated events, as if the 
map of Europe was a huge chess board and he the 
consummate player, making his combinations and 
moving them about at his will. An incident is narrated 
of him in the early part of his diplomatic career, 
which shows his coolness and tact. He was ap- 
pointed an ambassador to the German Confederation, 
and the president of the august body was an Austrian, a 
man of a haughty and arrogant manner, and disposed to 
make Bismarck feel his relative inferiority. At Bis- 
marck's first visit of ceremony, the Austrian received 
him in his shirt sleeves. Bismarck no sooner caught 
sight of him than he called out, "You are quite right, 
Excellency, it is awfully hot here, 7 ' and at once pulled off 
his own coat, in the coolest manner imaginable. The 
president was completely taken aback, jumped up and 
put on his uniform, and apologized for his inadvertence. 



TACT. 17 

How skillfully the man of tact will turn an embar- 
rassing circumstance to his advantage, and make an 
awkward event, which would have discomfited others, 
a fresh victory over opposing forces. The celebrated 
Lord North was once in the midst of an important 
speech in Parliament, when he was interrupted by the 
furious barking of a dog, which had got in the hall. 
The house roared with laughter, in which the speaker 
heartily joined. When order was restored, he turned 
to the chairman and said, " Sir, I was interrupted by 
a new speaker — was he a member from Barkshire ? — 
(Berkshire), but as his argument is concluded I will 
resume mine." Afresh burst of laughter followed this 
allusion, and then the house gave him their undivided 
attention. 

Daniel O'Connell was once addressing a large polit- 
ical meeting, which was held in Covent Garden Thea- 
tre, in London. There was a disturbance occasioned 
by the obstinacy of a man who persisted in standing 
up in the pit. " Sit down," and "Put him out," were 
shouted from all parts of the house, but the fellow was 
determined to stand. The police interfered, but they 
did not succeed in quieting the disorder. At last the 
great orator waved his hand for silence, and then said, 
" Pray, let the worthy gentleman have his way; he's a 
tailor and wants to rest himself" The obstinate man 
sat down immediately, amid thunders of applause from 
every portion of the vast assembly. The want of tact 
in such an emergency would have allowed the meeting 



1 8 TACT. 

to be turned to an uncontrollable mob, to the disgrace 
and mortification of all connected with it; but, with 
tact, the disorder became a huge wave which bore the 
orator to greater heights of popularity, and made him 
more completely the idol of the people. 

An old Scotch clergyman, when he came to a text 
too wonderful for him to comprehend or explain, instead 
of attempting to convince his hearers by a formidable 
array of words that he was master of its meaning, 
would say, " Brethren, this is a difficult text, a very 
difficult text, but do not let us be discouraged by it. 
Let us look the difficulty boldly in the face, and pass 
on" And so tact will crumble the stumbling stones 
and smooth down the obstacles in any of the walks of 
life, and although it may not have the brilliancy of 
genius, yet in its practical adaptation to all circum- 
stances, it has an imperial power -to lead its possessor 
to the grandest success. Bacon has said, " More men 
advance by the lesser arts of discretion than by the 
greater adornments of wit and science," and doubtless 
the great philosopher meant by discretion that invalua- 
ble tact which can always perceive in any emergency 
how to do the right thing in the right way. 




GQa^e I^eady for Opportunity. 

HAKESPEARE, that "myriad-minded 
bard," whose profound knowledge of human 
nature and marvelous perception of the 
phases and incidents of daily life have made 
his immortal works a store-house of wisdom, has truly 
said: " There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, 
taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." What man 
who has arrived at maturity does not sometimes sadly 
look back over the departed years, and mark the 
many opportunities, rich and golden, which presented 
themselves to him, but which he let pass beyond his 
grasp forever, because he was not ready to seize them! 

Here is the difference between success and failure in 
life; the successful man is ready to be borne onward 
by the tide of opportune circumstances, — ready for vic- 
tories when good fortune consents to be his ally and 
standard bearer. 

One great secret of success in life is to make ready 
for opportunity, so that when new preferment and re- 
sponsibilities come to us, we may be able to accept 
them, and perform the duties they bring, without 
abusing the trust reposed in us. How many spend 
their lives groveling in the mire of conscious in- 
feriority, because they have utterly failed to take ad- 
vantage of favorable opportunities. The merchant has 

l 9 



20 MAKE READY FOR OPPORTUNITY. 

a new and important channel of trade opened to him, 
but his finances are so disordered, or his experience 
and knowledge of his business so limited, that he can- 
not secure the prize, and it passes into the hands of his 
shrewd and enterprising rival. The physician, strug- 
gling to obtain a foothold in the community, is finally 
called in an important and critical emergency. Had he 
been capable, and ready to treat the case successfully, 
it would have established his reputation, and been a 
stepping-stone to a lucrative practice and a handsome 
competence; but, instead of this, the complications and 
requirements of the case far exceeded his ability to 
master them, and the very event which should have 
been an occasion of victory, proved a very Waterloo 
of defeat. The young lawyer, after waiting patiently 
for an opportunity to prove to his acquaintances his 
professional skill, at length is called to an important 
case. If he comes thoroughly prepared, — his mind 
sharpened and disciplined by years of careful prepar- 
atory training, — freighted with the principles and prec- 
edents which are applicable to the questions at issue, 
and ready to seize upon the vital and salient points in 
the case, how skillfully he makes this trial of his skill a 
sword with which to win fresh victories in his profes- 
sional arena. But if the occasion finds him unready, not 
all the mortification and regret that will haunt his mem- 
ory like a spectre of evil, will ever atone for the defeat, 
or bring back the golden opportunity forever lost. 
One of the brightest names in the annals of juris- 



MAKE READY FOR OPPORTUNITY. 21 

prudence was Lord Mansfield, who raised himself 
from the quarter-deck of a man-of-war to the exalted 
position of Lord Chancellor of England. When a 
young man, just admitted to the bar, and having de- 
pendent upon him a young family, he was waiting in 
poverty for patronage, and eagerly looking for some 
opportunity to show that he was ready for clients, and 
deserved them. At length, as with most men, his op- 
portunity came. He was invited to a supper, at which 
there was an old sea captain who had an important 
case on hand. During the evening, the merits of the 
case became the subject for discussion, and young 
Mansfield threw himself into the debate, and displayed 
such a warmth of eloquence, and such a conception of 
the principles applicable to the facts, that before they 
separated Mansfield had found a client and was en- 
trusted with the suit. When the case came to trial 
and Mansfield got on his feet to make his argument, 
he showed that he had mastered the case in all its 
bearings. He made a magnificent plea, and astonished 
the court, his client and all the barristers present by 
his wonderful forensic ability. From that time he be- 
came known as one of the foremost lawyers of his age, 
and honors and wealth poured in upon him. 

And so there comes a time in the life of every man 
when a brilliant opportunity is within his reach if he 
is but ready for it. If not ready, it passes from his 
sight forever, and leaves him but a stinging recollec- 
tion of what he has lost. 



Gnuihusiasm. 




iY enthusiasm we do not mean, as Warbur- 
ton denned it, "a temper of mind in which the 
imagination has got the better of the judg- 
ment," but rather an intense earnestness to 
carry forward the chosen work and purpose of life. 
An excellent illustration of this has been given by a 
talented writer in an anecdote he relates of a promising 
college student, who many years ago made a visit, 
during his vacation, to the house of a Col. Loring, in 
Virginia. He proceeds to say that the young guest, 
who had a powerful intellect and whose morals and 
manners were irreproachable, became a favorite with 
the master of the house, Col. Loring, then nearly 
eighty years of age. One evening, seated around the 
fire, the New Englander was moved to an unwonted 
confidence. 

"Can you tell me, Col. Loring," he said, in his calm 
monotone, "why I am unpopular in college? I rank 
high in my classes. I think my motives are pure. I 
am never knowingly guilty of a vice or a rudeness. Yet 
men with half my ability can carry the college with 
them in any measure, while I am barely tolerated by 
the students, and am an object of perfect indifference 
to the professors." 



22 



ENTHUSIASM. 2$ 

Col. Loring skillfully evaded the question, being too* 
courteous to reply frankly, but his eye fell upon the 
fire, which was well built, but covered with gray 
ashes. 

"Stir the lire, Neddy, stir the fire! 11 he said. 

The young visitor, a little surprised at the unusual 
request, took the poker and raked the coals, letting the 
air freely circulate. The flames broke out, and the 
heat became so intense that they all drew back. 

"It is always a good plan to let the fire burn, 11 said 
the colonel, quietly. The young man shot a keen 
glance of comprehension at him, but said nothing. 

" Neddy became in his middle age one of the fore- 
most figures in New England, 11 his old friend would 
say in ending the story. " He was a scholar, a states- 
man, and an orator. All the people admired and were 
proud of him. Yet I doubt if he ever carried a meas- 
ure in Congress, or persuaded a single man ever to 
change his opinion or his course. 

"I saw him at the age of sixty, delivering an oration 
which he had repeated over a hundred times. It was 
faultless in logic and in rhetoric. But it had no more 
effect upon his hearers than the recital of the Greek 
alphabet. I felt like calling out to him ' Stir the fire, 
Neddy, stir the fire. 111 

A thoughtful essayist has remarked : "Like all the 
virtues, -earnestness is sometimes a natural trait, and 
sometimes one acquired by the healthy graft of moral 
and religious principle. It is a positive essential in the 



24 ENTHUSIASM. 

structure of character; it is one of the main instru- 
ments in all action that is to benefit others. It gives 
persistency to the unstable, strength to the feeble, 
ability and skill to the inefficient, and success to all 
endqavor. There is a might in it that is magical to the 
vacillating and irresolute. Its possessors are those 
who stood in the front ranks of life from the school- 
room to the forum; from the child with its first 
"reward of merit," to the matron who presides over 
the well-ordered household, and gives her blessing to 
well-trained sons and daughters, as they leave their 
mother's home for lives of usefulness in wider spheres. 

Earnestness, also, like other noble qualities, is 
always making greater gains than it aims at. There 
is not only the purpose accomplished, but the strength, 
the skill, and the distance already overcome, that will 
make the next aim loftier, and more arduous in its 
accomplishment. Thus there is, naturally and neces- 
sarily, the attainment of fresh and more inspiring ele- 
vation. The prospect widens, the objects to be 
achieved multiply in number and importance, the con- 
sciousness of the one performance brightens the eye, 
and steadies the hand, and insures the uncertain step, 
till success is gained again." 

Said a critic of Landseer, the famous animal painter, 
" He seems to become the animal he is painting, — to 
intermingle his soul for a season with that of the stag, 
the horse, or the blood-hound." 

It is suggestive to notice how those who have 



ENTHUSIASM. 2$ 

attained great success in any department of human 
effort, have been enthusiastic in their calling. 

This story is told of Oken, the famous German 
naturalist : 

" He had a small income, but an intense zeal for 
scientific discovery. He could not surround himself 
with the comforts of life, and at the same time obtain 
the books and instruments needed for his scientific re- 
searches. He did not hesitate a moment in his choice; 
but, practicing the strictest economy in furniture, and 
clothing, and food, spent freely for scientific objects. 

u An American friend was once invited to dinner, and, 
to his surprise, found on the table neither meat nor 
pudding, but only baked potatoes. Oken himself was 
too proud to make any explanation; but his wife, being 
more humble and less reticent, apologized to the visi- 
tor for the scantily-spread table. Her husband, she 
said, was obliged to give up either science or luxurious 
living, and he had chosen to surrender the latter. On 
three days of the week, she added, they lived on 
potatoes and salt, and though at first it seemed like 
scanty fare, they had come to enjoy it, and to be per- 
fectly content with it/' 

Beecher remarks that the mind will not work to its 
average capacity — much less to its highest — without 
excitement, and Bulwer Lytton, the novelist, has left 
this eloquent passage to the same effect: " Nothing 
is so contagious as enthusiasm ; it is the real allegory 
of the lute of Orpheus; it moves stones; it charms 



26 ENTHUSIASM. 

brutes. Enthusiasm is the genius of sincerity, and 
truth accomplishes no victories without it.'' 

Said the sturdy and fearless Luther: " If I wish to 
compose, write, pray, or preach well, I must be angry. 
Then all the blood of my veins is stirred; my under- 
standing is sharpened, and all dismal thought and 
temptations are dissipated." 

When Charles James Fox was making one of his 
magnificent speeches in favor of the abolition of the 
slave trade, he was charged with betraying an incon- 
siderate degree of enthusiasm. He turned his blazing 
eyes upon the speaker, and said: " Enthusiasm, sir! 
why there was never any good done in the world 
without enthusiasm. We must feel warm upon our 
projects, otherwise from the discouragements we are 
sure to meet with here, they will drop through." And 
it was the steady enthusiasm of him and a little band 
of kindred spirits, that, like a consuming fire, swept all 
opposition before it, and brought about the great vic- 
tory of emancipation. Charles Dickens said that there 
is no substitute for thorough-going, ardent earnestness, 
and William Wirt gives this advice to the young: 
"Seize the moment of excited curiosity on any subject to 
solve your doubts; for if you let it pass, the desire may 
never return, and you may remain in ignorance." 

With a laudable purpose, enthusiasm, guided by 
practical good sense, and sustained by tireless in- 
dustry and perseverance, will lead to the highest 
round in the ladder of success. 



I^BLY ON l/OUF?SEIiF. 




,HE eagle when teaching her young to fly, as 
they sit on the edge of the nest, fearful to 
venture into the abyss below, forces them 
from the home that has sheltered them so 
long, and so compels them to use their weak and 
untried wings, and soon comes strength and courage 
for the lofty and prolonged flight. Well were it for 
parents if they would show as much wisdom in the ed- 
ucation of their children, and early train them to rely 
on their own unaided powers. 

Nothing better could happen to the young man who 
has the right kind of grit, than to be thrown on the 
world and his own resources. A well-to-do judge once 
gave his son a thousand dollars, and told him to go to 
college and graduate. The son returned at the end oi 
the Freshman year, his money all gone and with sev- 
eral extravagant habits. At the close of the vaca- 
tion the judge said to his son, "Well, William, are you 
going to college this year?' 7 "Have no money, 
father." "But I gave you a thousand dollars to grad 
uate on." "It is all gone, father." "Very well, my 
son; it was all I could give you; you can't stay here; 
you must now pay your own way in the world." A 



28 RELY ON YOURSELF. 

new light broke in upon the vision of the young man. 
He accommodated himself to the situation; again left 
home, made his way through college, graduated at the 
head of his class, studied law, became Governor of the 
State of New York, entered the Cabinet of the Presi- 
dent of the United States, and has made a record that 
will not soon die, for he was none other than William 
H. Seward. 

Daniel Webster, about four years before his death, 
wrote in a letter to his grandson what every student 
and young person should remember: "You cannot 
learn without your own efforts. All the teachers in 
the world can never make a scholar of you, if you do 
not apply yourself with all your might." 

If we study the lives of great men, we shall find that 
many of them were obliged to toil unremittingly in 
early life, and were unable to go to college, or even 
avail themselves of any educational advantages, except 
that which came to them from diligent application to 
books during odd moments of leisure, and that almost 
invariably at some period of their career they had to 
face the battle of life alone, and the strength of mind 
and character which were thus developed made them 
great and successful. Truly did they find that 
"Heaven helps him who helps himself." 

The men who have become rich are seldom those 
who started in business with capital, but those who 
had nothing to begin with but their strong arms and 
active brains. "A man's best friends are his ten 



RELY ON YOURSELF. 2Q 

fingers," says that sturdy thinker, Robert Collyer, and 
" Poor Richard " expressed the same truth when he 
said : " He that by the plow would thrive, himself must 
either hold or drive." The men who have always been 
bolstered up and assisted never amount to anything in a 
time of emergency; but will look about for some one 
to lean upon, and if no one comes to their rescue, down 
they go, out of sight. Whatever may be your calling, 
learn to depend on yourself. Fight your own battles, 
and you will probably win. 

You are only sure of that being well done which 
you do yourself. If you trust to others you will most 
surely be perplexed and disappointed. If you ever 
mean to do anything in this world, you must. take off 
your coat, set your face like a flint toward the accom- 
plishment of your purpose, and never give up until the 
victory is yours. 

"In battle or business whatever the game — 
In law, or in love, it is ever the same ; 
In the struggle for power, or scramble for pelf, 
Let this be your motto, " Rely on yourself." 
For whether the prize be a ribbon or throne, 
The victor is he who can go it alone." 

— Saxe. 




&5HAJH ffllNlHFES AI^B &5o^JHH. 




>N artist once picked up the scattered pieces 
of glass after a large stained window had 
been constructed, and with the fragments 
he made one of the most exquisite windows 
of a great cathedral in Europe. So should we use the 
fragments of time that are scattered through our lives. 
Moments are like grains of gold. It is said that the 
gold-room of the United States mint has double floors, 
the upper of which acts as a sieve, while the lower one 
catches the minute particles of precious dust which 
sift through, and that, by this contrivance, about thirty 
thousand dollars' worth of gold is saved every year. 
We need some such method to save the priceless but 
easily wasted moments of our lives. Said Napoleon 
to the pupils of a military school, " Remember that 
every lost moment is a chance for future misfortune." 
The results accomplished by improving these spare 
moments are quite as surprising as are the accumula- 
tions of gold dust at the mint. Dr. Schlieman, the Ger- 
man explorer of the ruins of Troy, began the study of 
languages after arriving at manhood, and in the midst 
of an active business. He says: " I never went on an 
errand, even in the rain, without having my book in 
my hand, and learning something by heart; and I 

30 



WHAT MINUTES AivE WORTH. 3 1 

never waited at the postoffice without reading." By 
thus improving these odd moments in this way, he ac- 
quired a thorough knowledge of the English and 
French languages in six months. By means of the aid 
and discipline acquired in mastering these two lan- 
guages, he was able to write and speak fluently, Dutch, 
Italian, Spanish and Portuguese by six weeks' study 
of each. Elihu Burritt, who was called the " learned 
blacksmith," was a wonderful instance of what can be 
accomplished by improving the smallest fragments of 
time. While working at the bellows, he had his book 
fastened where his eye could rest upon it for an instant, 
and in this way began the study of languages, and be- 
came one of the most eminent linguists of his day. 

Some one has remarked, " It was a maxim of the 
Latins that no one reached the summit of honor, unless 
he prudently used his time.'" This has been the secret 
of nearly all who have been noted for extraordinary 
ability, and have attained wonderful results. 

The picture of a man with hat and coat off, work- 
ing at the base of a mountain, while above him is the 
motto, " Little by little," suggests an important truth. 

When Prof. Tyndall was a young man, he was in 
the government service, and although faithful in the 
performance of his duties, yet had no definite aim in 
life. One day one of the officials asked him how his 
leisure hours were employed, saying: " You have five 
hours a day at your disposal, and this ought to be de- 
voted to systematic study. Had I, when at your age, 



32 WHAT MINUTES ARE WORTH. 

had a friend to advise me as I now advise you, instead 
of being in a subordinate position, I might have been 
at the head of my department." This good advice 
fell upon willing ears, for next day young Tyndall be- 
gan a regular course of study. About seven years 
after, desiring a more thorough education, he attended 
a German university, and in a speech made at a ban- 
quet in New York he thus referred to his student life, 
and how he improved his time, and thus acquired the 
habits and discipline by which he became one of the 
foremost scientific men of Europe. He said: "In 
1848, wishing to improve myself in science, I went to 
the University of Marburg, the same old town in 
which my great namesake, when even poorer than 
myself, published his translation of the Bible, I lodged 
in the plainest manner, in a street which perhaps bore 
an appropriate name while I dwelt upon it. It was 
called the Ketzerbach — the heretic's brook — from a 
little historic rivulet running through it. I wished to 
keep myself clean and hardy, so I purchased a cask 
and had it cut in two by a carpenter. Half that cask 
filled with spring water over night, was placed in my 
small bed-room, and never, during the years that I 
spent there, in winter or in summer, did the clock of 
the beautiful Elizabethe-kirch, which was close at hand, 
finish striking the hour of six in the morning, before I 
was in my tub. For a good portion of the time I rose 
an hour and a half earlier than this, working by lamp- 
light at the differential calculus, when the world was 



WHAT MINUTES ARE WORTH. 33 

slumbering around me. And I risked this breach in 
my pursuits, and this expenditure of time and money, 
not because I had any definite prospect of material 
profit in view, but because I thought the cultivation of 
the intellect important; because, moreover, I loved 
my work, and entertained the sure and certain hope 
that, armed with knowledge, one can successfully fight 
one's way through the world." 

A sensible writer has made this observation: " The 
true economy of human life looks at ends rather than 
incidents, and adjusts expenditures to a moral scale of 
values. De Quincey pictures a woman sailing over 
the water, awakening out of sleep to find her necklace 
untied and one end hanging over the stream, while 
pearl after pearl drops from the string beyond her 
reach; while she clutches at one just falling, another 
drops beyond recovery. Our days drop one after an- 
other by our carelessness, like pearls from a string, as 
we sail the sea of life. Prudence requires a wise hus- 
banding of time to see that none of these golden coins 
are spent for nothing. The waste of time is a more 
serious loss than the extravagances against which 
there is such loud acclaim." 

A lady who had the care of a large household, and 
yet found time to engage in many works of charity, 
was asked how she was able to do so much. She re- 
plied: " I never lose sight of the odd minutes. I have 
so much to do that there is always something I can 
turn to if I have a minute to spare." 



34 WHAT MINUTES ARE WORTH. 

It is surprising how much can be accomplished by 
making good use of the early morning hours. It is re- 
lated of Buffon, the celebrated naturalist, that he was 
always up with the sun, and he tells us in what way 
he gained the habit. " In my youth," said he, "I was 
very fond of sleep ; it robbed me of a great deal of my 
time; but my poor Joseph (his domestic) was of great 
service in enabling me to overcome it. I promised to 
give Joseph a crown every time he could make me get 
up at six. The next morning he did not fail to awake 
and torment me; but he received only abuse. The 
day after he did the same, with no better success, and 
I was obliged at noon to confess that I had lost my 
time. I told him that he did not know how to man- 
age his business; that he ought to think of my pro- 
mise, and not of my threats. The day following he 
employed force; I begged for indulgence, I bade him 
begone; I stormed, but Joseph persisted. I was, there- 
fore, obliged to comply, and he was rewarded every 
day for the abuse which he suffered at the moment 
when I awoke, by thanks, accompanied with a crown, 
which he received about an hour after. Yes, I am in- 
debted to poor Joseph for ten or a dozen volumes of 
of my work." 

Sir Walter Scott thus alludes to the freshness of his 
mind at the opening of the day, and the manner that 
he took advantage of it in his prodigious literary la- 
bors. He wrote in his diary: " When I had in 
former times to fill up a passage in a poem, it was al- 



WHAT MINUTES ARE WORTH. 35 

ways when I first opened my eyes that the desired 
ideas thronged upon me. I am in the habit of relying 
upon it, and saying to myself when I am at a loss, 
' Never mind, we shall have it all at seven o'clock to- 
morrow morning.' " When asked what was the secret 
of the marvelous fertility of his pen, he said: " I have 
always made it a rule never to be doing nothing." 

Milton rose at four in the winter, and five in the sum- 
mer, or if not disposed to rise, in later years, had some 
one to sit at his bedside and read to him, and his wife 
said that often before rising he would dictate twenty 
or thirty verses to her. Some one says: " One hour 
lost in the morning will put back all the business of 
the day; one hour gained by rising early will make 
one month in the year." 

One of the greatest hindrances to making use of 
spare moments is the tendency to dally, and to put off 
to another time what should be done at once. There 
is no time for indecision, for while we are considering 
and hesitating the moment is gone. 

A forcible writer has aptly said: " There is no mo- 
ment like the present; not only so, but there is no 
moment at all; that is, no instant force and energy, 
but in the present. The man who will not execute his 
resolutions when they are fresh upon him, can have no 
hope from them afterwards; they will be dissipated, 
lost, and perish in the hurry and skurry of the world, 
or sink in the slough of indolence." 

Alexander the Great, on being asked how he had 



36 WHAT MINUTES ARE WORTH. 

conquered the world replied, " By not delaying." And 
so with us, if we are to conquer difficulties there 
must be promptitude of action. There must be also 
a plan or system of work, if much is to be accomplished. 
A few moments given one day to one thing, and the 
next day to something else, will merely fritter away 
the time and scatter our energies. The value of a 
plan of systematic reading or study cannot be estimated 
coo highly. Says Hamberton: " Nothing wastes time 
like miscalculation. It negatives all results. It is the 
parent of incompleteness, the great author of the un- 
finished and the unserviceable." These inspiring 
words to young men apply to all who are striving to 
reach a higher goal. 

" Wishing and sighing, imagining and dreaming of 
greatness," said William Wirt, "will not make you 
great. But cannot a young man command his energies ? 
Read Foster on decision of character. This book will 
tell you what is in your power to accomplish. You 
must gird up your loins and go to work with the in- 
domitable energy of Napoleon scaling the Alps. It is 
your duty to make the most of time, talents and op- 
portunity. 

"Alfred, King of England, though he performed 
more business than any of his subjects, found time to 
study. 

" Franklin, in the midst of his labors, had time to 
dive into the depths of philosophy, and explore an un* 
trodden path of science. 



WHAT MINUTES ARE WORTH. 37 

" Frederick the Great, with an empire at his direc- 
tion, in the midst of war, and on the eve of battle, 
found time to revel in the charms of philosophy, and 
feast on the luxury of science. 

" Napoleon, with Europe at his disposal, with kings 
in his ante-chamber, at the head of thousands of men, 
whose destinies were suspended on arbitrary pleasure, 
found time to converse with books. 

a And young men, who are confined to labor or busi- 
ness, even twelve hours a day, may take an hour and a 
half of what is left, for study, and this will amount to 
two months in the course of the year." 

What might not be accomplished in the long winter 
evenings and early summer mornings, in the course of 
five or ten years, were some high purpose formed and 
followed, which would spur the mental powers to their 
utmost endeavor, and inspire the soul with high re- 
solves. Thousands of dissatisfied lives will bear testi- 
mony to these words of a modern, talented writer: 
" There are few people who have not discovered how 
difficult it is to secure time for any pursuit over and 
above that required for the daily business of life. For 
instance, one has an ambition to excel in an accom- 
plishment, or to acquire a language, or one's tastes lie 
in the direction of geology or mineralogy. The hours 
which can be found and devoted without interruption 
to these cherished things are few, so few that often the 
plans are laid aside, and the attainments regarded as 
completely beyond the reach of the busy man or 



38 WHAT MINUTES ARE WORTH. 

woman. The demands of a profession, the cares of a 
household, the claims of society, and the duties of re 
ligion, so occupy every moment of every day, that it 
seems idle to try to keep up the studies which once 
were a joy and delight. If men and women would de- 
termine to do what they can with their bits of time, to 
learn what they can in the fragments and uninter- 
rupted portions of days, which they can alone be sure 
of, they would be surprised at the end of a season, or at 
the end of a year, to find how much they had accom- 
plished. It is better to read one good, strong book 
through in the winter, than to read nothing but the 
newspaper, and perhaps not that. A half hour daily 
devoted to any book, any art, or any esthetic pursuit, 
would be sufficient to keep it in the possession of the 
mind, and to give thought something to dwell upon, 
outside the engrossing and dwarfing cares of every 
day. That precious half hour would save from the 
narrowness and pettiness which are inevitable to those 
whose work is exclusively given to the materialities of 
life. It would tinge and color the day, as a drop of 
ruby liquid in the druggist's globe imparts its hue to a 
gallon of water. A feeling of discouragement comes 
over us when we compare ourselves and our oppor- 
tunities with those of some living men, and with those 
of some who have gone, but whose biographies live. 
How did they learn so much, do so much, fill so large 
a space in the story of their times, and illustrate so 
grandly the possibilities of humanity? If we knew all 



WHAT MINUTES ARE WORTH. 39 

the truth, it was no doubt because the time we spend 
in fruitless effort, and in doing needless things, was 
steadily given by them to the things which count up, 
and make large sums total at the foot of life's balance- 
sheet. No doubt, too, because they were not con- 
temptuous of scattered fragments of time, which they 
filled with honest work, and which paid them by mak- 
ing their work easier and more successful in the end. 
If we could make up our minds to accept the situation 
in which Providence has placed us, and then to do the 
best we can there, without repining, we might yet 
evolve some lovely creation out of our broken days." 
May these suggestive words inspire you carefully to 
treasure the precious moments of your lives, and to 
heed this parting admonition, which, if followed, will 
fill life with a new measure of satisfaction, and crown 
it with glorious achievements. " Try what you can 
make of the broken fragments of time. Glean up its 
golden dust — those raspings and parings of precious 
duration, those leavings of days and remnants of hours 
which so many sweep out into the waste of existence. 
Perhaps, if you be a miser of moments, if you be frugal, 
and hoard up odd minutes, and half hours, and unex- 
pected holidays, your careful gleanings may eke out a 
long and useful life, and you may die at last, richer in 
existence than multitudes, whose time is all their 



©he E?r?iGE op Success. 




EOPLE generally get what they pay for, and 
usually value those articles the most which 
cost them the highest price, and the greatest 
sacrifice to obtain. There may be now and then a 
person who stumbles on success by accident, as a man 
may stumble on a gold .mine, but these instances are 
exceptional, and seldom happen. Those who succeed 
in any special department of human action are, as a 
rule, those who carefully plan for it, expect it, and are 
willing to pay the full price to attain it. 

Success demands to be bought with a price; it is 
stern and unyielding in its requirements, inflexible in 
its terms, and exacts the uttermost farthing. It costs 
application, diligence, self-sacrifice and enthusiasm; 
the blandishments of pleasure must be disregarded, the 
allurements of fashionable society avoided, the quiet 
and retirement of solitude courted. One of the great- 
est thinkers and scholars of his age said, "I am as 
much cut off from the great body of men as if I 
belonged to a band of pirates." The whirl of giddy 
pleasure, the sound of intoxicating music, the meas- 
ures of the dance, and even the frequent occasions of 

social festivities, all these were denied him, and were 

40 



THE PRICE OF SUCCESS. 4i 

dead to him. For him was the silent library, the in- 
tense concentration of continuous thought, the attrition 
with minds like his own, the conflict of ideas; and 
the world outside was to him as nothing. 

A political leader in the British Parliament, forty 
years ago, said, "During the week which followed my 
taking office, I did. not close my eyes for anxiety. I 
never take exercise now. From my getting up until 
four o'clock, I am engaged in the business of my office. 
At four I dine, go down to the House at five, and 
never stir until the House rises, which is always after 
midnight." This was the price he paid for his great 
ness, and compared with such a life of intense strain, 
the toil of the laborer who works ten hours a day is 
mere pastime. And yet this is but a fair example of 
the labor performed by many of our public men, which 
alas ! often breaks down their constitution and shortens 
their days. The price of success is unremitting toil. 

When Edmund Burke was making one of his won- 
derful speeches in Parliament, one of his brothers was 
standing by and said, "I always thought that Ned had 
all the brains in our family," but shortly afterwards 
remarked, "I see how it is, while we were sleeping 
and playing, he was working and studying. " It is said 
that one of the greatest pieces of acting was by the 
famous Edmund Kean in the character of the gentle- 
man villain. Before he would consent to appear in 
the character, he practiced assiduously before the glass, 
studying expressions, for a year and a half. Then he 



42 THE PRICE OF SUCCESS. 

said he was ready, and when he came on the stage, 
Byron, who with Moore was there to hear him, said 
that he had never looked upon so fearful and wicked 
a countenance. As the great actor proceeded to de- 
lineate the terrible consequences of sin, Byron swooned 
away, and before the play was over the audience had 
fled in horror from the fearful spectacle. That long 
year and a half of painstaking preparation, was a 
costly price to pay for success, but it purchased a full 
measure of it. 

It is sad to note that success is often attained at the 
expense of the kindly qualities of the heart. Many a 
man of naturally jovial temperament and overflowing 
spirits, becomes by a continually studious and solitary 
life a confirmed recluse. That witty yet profound 
poet and philosopher, Oliver Wendell Holmes, has 
said, "I won't say the more intellect the less capacity 
for loving; for that would do wrong to the under- 
standing and reason; but, on the other hand, that the 
brain often runs away with the heart's best blood, 
which gives the world a few pages of wisdom, or sen- 
timent, or poetry instead of making one other heart 
happy, I have no question." This sentiment was also 
well expressed by one of our eloquent divines when he 
said, " All the great intellectual development which the 
world has ever seen, has been reached at the cost of the 
heart. When the intellect weds itself fully to certain 
paths of study and toil, the heart soon sunders the 
many sweet and beautiful associations of the wide 



THE PRICE OF SUCCESS. 43 

world. It is written in all history that a life of thought 
is a constant warfare against a life of sociability and 
cheerfulness and love." 

The biographer of that brilliant child of genius, 
Rufus Choate, says that although he was "forever in 
the midst of his clients or his household, yet he always 
seemed lonely and solitary," and though he was pecul- 
iarly fitted to shine in society, yet he became averse to it. 

The celebrated naturalist, Audubon, cut himself 
aloof for years from the haunts of men, and plunged 
into the gloomy depths of forests and swamps for the 
purpose of observing the habits and drawing sketches 
of American birds, but the result was that he gave to the 
world the most comprehensive work in this department of 
natural history ever attempted. But for this he endured 
exposure, hardships innumerable, hunger and cold, the 
taunts of strangers, and the pity and distrust of friends. 

A rough, hard working frontiersman, who had heard 
that the Emperor of Russia, after examining Audu- 
bon's splended work, was so much delighted that he 
presented the author with a signet ring studded with 
diamonds as a token of his admiration, thus gave vent 
to his indignation: " So the great, overgrown 
Emperor of Roosia gave that hateful little bird-shoot- 
ing, alligator-catching, and rattle-snake stuffling, crazy 
fellow a goold ring, did he? Well, upon my word, it 
is just like the Emperors though; plenty to throw 
awav on fellows who never do an honest day's work 
in their lives, and nothing for the industrious poor man. 



44 THE PRICE OF SUCCESS. 

Audubon is the kind they like. IVe seen him loafing 
about my clearing for a month at a time ; so dreadfully 
lazy that he would sit all day under a tree, pretending 
to watch a bird as big as my thumb, build its nest; and 
what's more, he'd shoot humming birds with a rifle, 
and let deer and turkeys (that's game) pass unnoticed. 
I don't think his picters were worth the paper he 
made 'em on, nor was he worth the powder that 
would blow him up." The rough frontiersman prob- 
ably expressed the estimate in which the patient labors 
of the naturalist were held by the great mass of people; 
and so the price he paid for his success was not only 
his solitary wanderings and tireless researches, but the 
indifference with which his work was regarded, and the 
entire lack of appreciation on the part of even the edu- 
cated classes with which it was at first received. The 
multitude little think of what success costs ; and would 
be unwilling to pay the price did they know it. 

It is only those who are willing to tread the rugged 
road of self-denial and toil that need expect to suc- 
ceed in any line of effort. The great multitude whose 
object in life is to gratify their desires, and who live for 
mere enjoyment, will pass away, and soon their memo- 
ries will be forgotten. In the immortal allegory of 
Bunyan, the great dreamer, one stood at the door of a 
palace, the entrance to which was disputed by armed 
men, and cried, 

" Come in, come in! 

Eternal glory thou shalt win!" 



THE PRICE OF SUCCESS. 45 

and soon the pilgrim saw approaching a resolute man 
who drew his sword with such effect that the opposing 
forces gave way, and in triumph he entered the palace. 

Thus it is in life. The temple of honor is beset with 
legions of difficulties and obstacles, and he who would 
enter must draw his sword, and with brave and resolute 
spirit battle valiantly against each opposing foe. 

It is related of Alexander the Great that he u de- 
sired his preceptor to prepare for him some easier and 
shorter way to learn geometry; but he was told that 
he must be content to travel the same road as others. 

" It is the old route of labor, along which are many 
landmarks and many wrecks. It is lesson after lesson 
with the scholar, blow after blow with the laborer, crop 
after crop with the farmer, picture after picture with 
the painter, step after step and mile after mile with the 
traveler, that secures what all desire — success." 

Then labor on patiently, toiler, whatever may be 
your task — whether of the hand or the brain. Work 
wisely and steadily, and in due time you will be 
crowned with that success which you have so richly 
earned. 




(Choice op (Companions. 




POET, showing a profound knowledge of 
human nature, has well said : 
"We grow like those with whom we daily blend," 
and both the deductions of reason and the 
fruits of experience abundantly verify the assertion. 
God has created us with such delicate and sensitive 
natures that we are unconsciously influenced by those 
around us, — we acquire their eccentricities, we imitate 
their style of speech, our minds become accustomed to 
run in the same grooves, and we often even adopt the 
very tone of voice or manner of expression. A profes- 
sor in a college will often impress a certain peculiarity 
of manner upon whole classes of pupils, and how often 
a great orator will engraft the intonations of his voice, 
the singularity of his gestures, or the idioms of his lan- 
guage upon hundreds who are spell-bound by his elo- 
quence. We are creatures of imitation, and no effort 
of the will, however powerful, can wholly free us from 
this universal principle. We are like a looking-glass, 
— we reflect back the figures held before us. If a 
jolly, vivacious acquaintance, who is fairly brimming 
over with good humor and sprightliness, comes to us, 
how soon we ourselves become mirthful, and feel our 
whole being aglow with an infectious enthusiasm ; or if 

46 



CHOICE OF COMPANIONS. 47 

in the company of a sour, complaining person, how 
quickly our spirits become depressed, and yield to the 
same fault-finding tendency. And so not only with at- 
tributes of character, but also in matters of taste, how 
often do we see the mind largely controlled by the in- 
fluence of early associates. The love for an art or a 
profession, or an intellectual pursuit, is often derived 
from the influence of some cherished friend, to whom 
one looks up with tender regard and confidence. 

It is one of the revelations of chemistry, that some 
substances produce changes in others, by their mere 
presence; and this is certainly true of our associates. 
Can we not all call to mind people whom just to meet 
makes us feel more kindly, earnest and noble; and for- 
tunate are we if we do not know others who turn the 
milk of human kindness sour, and fill us with dissatis- 
faction and distrust. That wise old proverb, " Tell me 
thy company and I will tell thee what thou art," we 
unconsciously apply when forming our judgment of 
others. The maxim, " Keep company with the good 
and thou wilt be one of them," contains a golden truth. 
Sir Peter Lely, the great painter, made it a rule never 
to look at a bad picture, because he found by experi- 
ence that whenever he did so, his pencil took a hint 
from it, which disfigured his own work, so subtile and 
insidious are the influences of evil association. John 
B. Gough, that matchless temperance orator, never 
ceased to lament the evil companionship of his young 
manhood. Speaking on this subject, he said: "I 



48 CHOICE OF COMPANIONS. 

would give my right hand if I could forget that which 
I have learned in evil society; if I could tear from my 
remembrance the scenes which I have witnessed, the 
transactions which have taken place before me. You 
cannot, I believe, take away the effect of a single im- 
pure thought that has lodged and harbored in the 
heart. You may pray against it, and, by God's grace, 
you may conquer it ; but it will, through life, cause you 
bitterness and anguish." Tennyson uttered in a line 
a thought more powerful than the theories of whole 
schools of philosophy, 

" I am a part of all that I have met." 

Charles Kingsley thus enlarges on the same thought : 
u Men become false if they live with liars ; cynics if 
they live with scorners; mean if they live with the 
covet eous; affected if with the affected, and actually 
catch the expression of each others faces. * * * 
Whomsoever a young man or a young woman shall 
choose as their ideal, to him or her they will grow like, 
according to their power; so much so, that I have seen 
a man of real genius, stamp not only his moral 
peculiarities and habits of thought, but his tones of 
voice and handwriting, on a whole school of disciples of 
very different characters from himself, and from each 
other." 

If, then, our characters are thus moulded by those 
with whom we associate, how careful should we be in 
the choice of our company. If we cultivate the society 



CHOICE OF COMPANIONS. 49 

of those who possess superior mind and exalted char- 
acter, we may hope to become like them. 

Thackeray has left this excellent advice: "Try to 
frequent the company of your betters; in books and 
society, that is the most wholesome society. Learn to 
admire rightly; the great pleasure in life is that. Note 
what the great men admired; they admired great 
things; narrow spirits admire basely, and worship 
meanly." 

Emerson says: " Talk much with any man of vig- 
orous mind, and we acquire very fast the habit of looking 
at things in the same light, and on each occurrence we 
anticipate his thought." And so, if we mingle with 
those who have lofty views of life, — who are blessed 
with all the charms which accompany purity of thought 
and action, we gradually learn to look from the same 
standpoint; we become animated with the same noble 
resolves; we see glimpses of their glorious ideals, and 
we become elevated and purified by the blessed in- 
fluence which emanates from them. 

That great preacher, John Wesley, when a student 
at Oxford, made a resolution that he would have no 
companions by chance, but by choice, and that he 
would only choose such as would "help him on his way 
to heaven;" and this resolution he carried out strictly, 
and a life of honor and usefulness followed, such as but 
few attain. 

On the other hand, Charles Lamb, naturally one of 
the most brilliant and amiable of men, when young, 



5<D CHOICE OF COMPANIONS. 

began to frequent the company of the boisterous, in- 
temperate and dissipated, who thought themselves witty 
and jovial, and what were the fruits? A dozen years 
after, a miserable wreck of manhood, he said: " Be- 
hold me now, at the robust period of life, reduced to 
imbecility and decay. Life itself, my waking life, has 
much of the confusion, the trouble, the obscure per- 
plexity of an ill dream. In the day time I stumble 
upon dark mountains. Business, which I used to enter 
upon with some degree of alacrity, now wearies, af- 
frights and perplexes me. I fancy all sorts of dis- 
couragements, and am ready to give up an occupation 
that gives me bread, from a harrassing conceit of inca- 
pacity. So much the springs of action are broken. 
My favorite occupations in times past, now cease to en- 
tertain. I can do nothing readily. Application for 
ever so short a time kills me." 

Such was the fearful retribution which evil brought 
him, even while yet young, and such will be meted out 
to all who are deluded enough to follow the same 
perilous course. The power to choose is placed in our 
hands, — the good and pure and wise are ever ready to 
welcome us to their circle, and a long life of honor, use- 
fulness and blessed influence will attend the choice. 
The corrupt and abandoned beckon us also to their 
midst, but through the enchantments and witcheries of 
their vaunted pleasures may be seen shame and dis- 
honor, a wasted life, and a premature grave. 



Gnjoy Lgfe as you Go. 




HERE is an Eastern legend of a powerful 
genii, who promised a beautiful maiden a gift 
of rare value if she would pass through a 
field of corn and, without pausing, going 
backward, or wandering hither and thither, select the 
largest and ripest ear, — the value of the gift to be in 
proportion to the size and perfection of the ear she 
should choose. She passed through the field, seeing a 
great many well worth gathering, but always hoping 
to find a larger and more perfect one, she passed them 
all by, when, coming to a part of the field where the 
stalks grew more stunted, she disdained to take one 
from these, and so came through to the other side 
without having selected any. 

This little fable is a faithful picture of many lives, 
which are rejecting the good things in their way and 
within their reach, for something before them for 
which they vainly hope, but will never secure. On a 
dark night and in a dangerous place, where the foot- 
ing is insecure, a lantern in the hand is worth a dozen 



stars 



It is well to look beyond the present into the future, 
and in the season of strength and prosperity, to make 

51 



52 ENJOY LIFE AS YOU GO. 

provision for a time when misfortune and old age may 
overtake us. This is a positive duty that we owe to 
ourselves and to society, and if we neglect to do this, 
we must reap the bitter consequences of our indiscre- 
tion, for every person in his right mind will look at 
life as a whole, and work for the end as well as for 
the beginning. But this does not mean that we should 
ignore the present altogether, nor that our pleasures 
should consist solely in the anticipation of some future 
prosperity or expected success. 

Some one has said that of all the dreary disillusions, 
the dreariest must be that of the rich old man who has 
denied himself every pleasure during the years when 
he had the power to enjoy it, and sits down to partake 
at the eleventh hour of the feast of life, when appetite 
is dead, and love has departed. And yet what multi- 
tudes are doing this very thing, and thus cheating 
themselves of the most rational enjoyment of their ex- 
istence. The business man with a moderate compe- 
tence, instead of enjoying it, is eager to realize some 
ambitious dream of a widely extended power and pat- 
ronage. He lays plans which require half a lifetime 
to carry out, and then bends all his energies to attain 
his end, and in the meantime all is worry, bustle and 
anxiety, home is but a stopping place, and he derives 
no substantial pleasures from friends, society or intel- 
lectual recreations. He thinks that he will wait until 
his scheme is realized, and then he will enjoy life. In 
a majority of instances his planning ends in disappoint* 



ENJOY LIFE AS YOU GO. 53 

ment, and he becomes embittered in temper and spirit 
by failure; but if he should succeed, and have the proud 
satisfaction of seeing the realization of his dreams, he 
finds that, some way or other, happiness still seems to 
be somewhere in the future, and is not found just how 
and where he expected. And so life passes away 
without affording him day by day as he passes through 
it, those little pleasures, healthful enjoyments and 
wholesome recreations which might have brightened 
his pathway. 

A popular writer has said, and how often it is veri- 
fied by observation, " How many men there are who 
have toiled and saved to make money that they might 
be happy by and by, but who, by the time they are 
fifty or sixty years old, have used up all the enjoyable 
nerve in them? During their early life they carried 
economy and frugality to the excess of stinginess, and 
when the time came that they expected joy there was 
no joy for them." 

A sagacious man has well observed: "How can the 
eager, driven man of business pause to read and study ? 
how can he command the calmness and quiet necessary 
to form habits of thought ? how can he acquire a love 
of literary pursuits when engrossed constantly in far 
different matters? Here again he admits he is not 
living now, but only getting ready to live in the future. 
In the same way he postpones liberality. He cannot 
afford to be generous now, as every dollar is needed 
to support and extend his business; after awhile, when 



54 ENJOY LIFE AS YOU GO. 

he is rich enough, he will devote his well earned gains 
to the good of his fellow men, and the promotion of 
beneficent enterprises. So he drifts on from year to 
year, letting slip hundreds of present opportunities of 
doing good, in the mistaken idea that thus he can bet- 
ter embrace those of the future." The wife and 
mother, wearied with unnumbered cares, and ex- 
hausted by nightly vigils and daily solicitudes, is often 
well-nigh discouraged, and looks only to the grave for 
relief from weariness. Would it not strengthen her 
heart and brighten her way with some gleams of pres- 
ent joy could she but realize how exalted is the place 
to which God has called her, and to what blessed min- 
istry she is appointed. Were that home to be swept 
away by some unforeseen calamity, or darkened by the 
shadow of death, how would she look back to former 
days and wonder that they were not full of praise and 
thanksgiving. 

That charming writer, Miss Muloch, has truly said: 
" Nobody will see his own blessings, or open his heart 
to enjoy them, till the golden hour has gone forever, 
and he finds out too late all that he might have had, 
and might have done." If we cannot have just the 
things we would like in this world of ours, it is the 
wisest way to like what we have. There is a pro- 
found and practical philosophy in the sentiment ex- 
pressed by a recent writer: " This looking forward to 
enjoyment don't pay. From what I know of it, I 
would as soon chase butterflies for a living, or bottle 



ENJOY LIFE AS YOU GO. 55 

moonshine for a cloudy night. The only way to be 
happy is to take the drops of happiness as God gives 
them to us every day of our lives. The boy must 
learn to be happy while he is plodding over his lessons; 
the apprentice when he is learning his trade; the mer- 
chant while he is making his fortune, or they will be 
sure to miss their enjoyment when they have gained 
what they have sighed for." Let us, then, while plan- 
ning for the future, beware how we slight the present; 
the now of life is the only time of which we are sure, 
and it should be our aim to improve and enjoy, not 
with a prodigal's waste, or miser's stint, but with the 
rational purpose of making every hour contribute 
something to the happiness and value of a lifetime. 

" There is a good time coming, boys ; " 

So runs the hopeful song; 
Such is the poetry of youth, 

When life and hope are strong; 
But when these buoyant days are passed 

Age cries: " How changed are men! 
Things were not so when I was young, 

The best of times was then." 

" There is a good time coming, boys;" 

And many a one has passed; 
For each has had his own good time, 

And will have to the last. 
Then do thy work while lingers youth, 

With freshness on its brow, 
Still mindful of life's greatest truth, 

The best of times is now. 



IflCTWIiE ©HINGS. 




>UCCESS or failure depends in a great de- 
^h gree upon the attention given to little things 
~ > tS/ and petty details. It is said that the Duke 
of Wellington largely owed his victories to the im- 
portance which he attached to the seemingly unim- 
portant details of army life. Nothing was too minute 
to escape his notice, — his soldiers' shoes, the camp 
kettles, rations, horse fodder, and everything pertain- 
ing to their equipments was subject to his vigorous per- 
sonal investigation, and the fruits of this attention to 
little things were successful campaigns and glorious 
victories. Napoleon attributed his success to his wise 
use of time, which enabled him to hurl his forces like 
thunder-bolts in unexpected places. Nelson, the 
greatest sea warrior of modern times, said that he 
owed all his success in life to having been always a 
quarter of an hour before his time, and to his habit of 
giving the most minute attention to details. 

A person was once watching the great sculptor 
Canova, while he was completing one of his marvelous 
statues. The taps of the artist's mallet were seem- 
ingly so trivial and meaningless, that the visitor 
thought that he was making sport of his work, but the 
artist rebuked him with these words: " The touches. 



LITTLE THINGS. 57 

which you ignorantly hold in such small esteem, are 
the very things which make the difference between 
the failure of a bungler and the perfection of a master." 

Poussin, the great painter, accounted for his reputa- 
tion in these words: "Because I have neglected noth- 
ing;' 7 and so in all departments of human activity, the 
meed of highest excellence is awarded to those who 
have exhibited tireless devotion to the petty details of 
their calling. 

To what important results have little things con- 
tributed. The discovery of printing was suggested 
by carving some rude letters on the bark of a tree. 
A boiling tea kettle indicated the power of steam and 
set in tireless activity a busy brain; and a perfected 
steam engine was the result. That wonderful force in 
nature — electricity — was discovered by noticing that a 
polished surface, when sharply rubbed, attracted small 
bits of paper. A lamp swinging in a church suggested 
to the observing mind of Galileo the first idea of a 
pendulum. A spider's web swinging in the air, 
stretched from point to point, was all that a fertile brain 
was waiting for to give birth to the conception of a sus- 
pension bridge. A little spark, accidentally falling on 
some ingredients mixed in a mortar, led to the dis- 
covery of gunpowder, and thus to a complete revolu- 
tion in the mode of warfare. The falling of an apple, 
set at work the mighty intellect of Sir Isaac Newton, 
and the discovery of the law of gravitation was the re- 
sult, The telescope and all the wonderful revelations 



58 LITTLE THINGS. 

it makes known to us of the illimitable universe, we 
owe to the trifling occurrence of some children looking 
through several pairs of spectacles at a distant object, 
and calling the attention of their father to its changed 
appearance. One of Handel's matchless harmonies 
was suggested to him by hearing the sounds from a 
blacksmith's anvil. The change of a comma in a bill 
which passed through congress several years ago, cost 
our government a million dollars. The history of 
France was changed, and a powerful dynasty over 
thrown by a glass of wine. The Duke of Orleans, the 
son and prospective successor of King Louis 
Phillipe, a noble young man physically and mor- 
ally, while breakfasting with some friends on a 
convivial occasion, although too elevated a char- 
acter to be dissipated, yet was tempted by the 
festivity of the hour to drink a glass of wine too much. 
On parting from his companions he took a carriage, the 
horses took fright, he leaped to the ground, and being 
slightly unbalanced, he lost his footing, his head was 
dashed against the pavement, and he was carried 
away bruised and unconscious, soon to die. If it had 
not been for that extra glass of wine, he would prob- 
ably have kept his seat, or when springing to the 
ground would have alighted on his feet. That glass 
of wine brought about the death of the heir apparent 
to the throne, the exile of his family, and the confisca- 
tion of their immense wealth amounting to a hundred 
million of dollars. 



LITTLE THINGS. 59 

A cricket once saved an important military expe- 
dition from destruction. The commanding officer, 
Cabeza de Vaca, and several hundred of his men were 
on a great ship going to South America, and, nearing 
the shore, through the carelessness of the watch, they 
would have been dashed against a ledge of rock had 
it not been for a little cricket which a soldier had 
brought on board. The little insect had been silent 
during the whole voyage, but scenting the land, it 
struck up its shrillest note, and by this they were 
warned of their danger and were saved. An insect is 
a small creature compared to the huge beasts of the 
forest, but it has been calculated that the insects upon 
our globe, if piled in one mass, would exceed in bulk 
the beasts and birds. 

We unconsciously form our estimate of people by 
little things. A word or a look often reveals the inner 
nature. A pin, says an English writer, is a very little 
thing in an article of dress, but the way it is put into 
the dress often reveals to you the character of the 
wearer. 

Neglect of little things has ruined many a rich man; 
it has scattered many a princely fortune; it has de- 
stroyed many a prosperous business; it has defeated 
many an important enterprise; it has damaged many a 
fine reputation ; it has broken down many a good con- 
stitution; it has made wretched many a happy life; it 
has wrecked many a precious soul. 

Great learning consists in an aggregate of an infinite 



60 LITTLE THINGS. 

number of little facts, which have been separately 
mastered. That great philosopher, John Locke, said, 
" The chief art of learning is to attempt but little at a 
time. The widest excursions of the mind are made by 
short flights, frequently repeated; the most lofty 
fabrics of science are formed by the continued accumu- 
lations of single propositions." 

Happiness is made up of a succession of pleasing oc- 
currences, which, though they may be small in them- 
selves, yet make one's life full of enjoyment. A kind 
word is but a little thing, but it has changed the aspect 
of the whole world to many a despairing creature, and 
saved many a soul. A kind action may cost but a 
moment's effort and be soon forgotten by the doer 
and yet it may save a life to usefulness and virtue. 

We call him strong who stands unmoved — 
Calm as some tempest-beaten rock — 
When some great trouble hurls its shock; 

We say of him, his strength is proved; 
But when the spent storm folds its wings, 

How bears he then life's little things ? 

We call him great who does some deed 
That echo bears from shore to shore — 
Does that, and then does nothing more; 

Yet would his work earn richer meed, 

When brought before the King of Kings, 
Were he but great in little things. 



Bodily Uigo^. 




[HERE are occasional instances of men whose 
active, powerful minds seem unfettered by 
their slight, sickly bodies, and who, in spite of 
physical weakness, have by their strong will 
and giant intellect accomplished much. But this is 
the exception, and not the rule. A large percentage 
of the ability which is attributed to the brain is 
really due to a splendid physique. Bodily vigor 
means activity, enthusiasm, determination and energy, 
— it means that the mind has at command its best 
powers, and that all the parts of our nature are in 
a condition to work together joyously and harmoni- 
ously. Most of those who have accomplished much in 
the world have been vigorous in body as well as active 
in mind, and have been distinguished for their physical 
strength and endurance. 

Washington had a splendid physique, and excelled 
in all the games of his time. One of his relatives said 
that he had the strongest hands of any man he had ever 
known. In the latter part of his life he was passing 
over his estate at Mt. Vernon and stopped to watch 
three of his workmen who were trying to raise a large 

stone to a certain position. After watching their use- 

61 



62 BODILY VIGOR. 

less attempts for some time, he dismounted, bade them 
to stand aside, and then with a giant's grasp he lifted 
it to its place, remounted his horse and passed on. 

Wesley, whose life was one of astonishing labor, 
observed on his eighty-first birthday: " To-day I 
entered on my eighty-second year, and found myself 
just as strong to labor, and as fit for exercise in body 
and mind, as I was forty years ago.' 1 At the age of 
eighty-three he remarked ; "I am a wonder to myself ; 
it is now twelve years since I have felt any such sensa- 
tion as weariness." Prof. Wilson, the "Christopher 
North' 1 of Blackwood 's Magazine, as might be expected 
from his exuberant style, was a man fairly overflowing 
with vitality, and frequently astonished his friends by his 
wonderful powers of endurance. He thought nothing of 
a jaunt on foot of twenty or thirty miles in an afternoon, 
merely for pleasure. 

Chief Justice Chase was a man of herculean frame, 
which carried him through the excessive fatigues of 
his laborious life. While attending the Supreme 
Court at Washington he walked every day regularly, 
winter and summer, to and from his residence, which 
was two miles away. John Quincy Adams had such 
a strong constitution that he took not only long 
walks, but bathed in the Potomac in winter as well as 
summer. 

It is a matter of astonishment how a long list of 
English statesmen have kept on the harness of toil and 
seemed to preserve their powers fresh and unimpaired 



BODILY VIGOR. 63 

even beyond the allotted period of life. Palmerston, 
Russell, Lyndhurst, Brougham, and many others, 
worked at the most exhaustive labor for twenty or 
thirty years after the powers of most men begin to fail. 
The secret was their bodily vigor, which they retained 
by their athletic sports, constant exercise, and care of 
themselves. Some one has said that " a strong mind 
in a weak body is like a superior knife blade in an infe- 
rior handle. Its workmanship may be ever so finished, 
its temper ever so true, its edge ever so keen; but for 
want of means to wield it properly, it will not cut to 
much purpose. 11 

In these days of fierce competition in every trade and 
profession, that man has but a poor prospect of success 
who has not a good stock of vitality; certainly his 
chances are much impaired without it. In a long and 
desperate struggle, the man who wins is he with the 
firmest nerve, the strongest muscle, the best blood ; for 
out of these come the " grit " which is bound to con- 
quer or die. Young man, if you are fired with a great 
purpose, and feel your blood throb with the pulse of a 
resistless ambition, guard jealously the powers of your 
body : take means to make your frame stronger, your 
constitution more vigorous, so that when the great 
strain comes which your ambition, or stern duty, will 
surely bring, you may not falter and ignominiously 
sink under the burden, but may show yourself equipped 
with strength equal to every emergency. 



Di^in^ and Ins Doings, 




JMOS LAWRENCE, who went to Boston a 
poor country boy and became one of the 
most wealthy and successful merchants in 
the land, when speaking of his resolution 
never to drink or use tobacco, said: a In the first 
place, take this for your motto at the commencement 
of your journey, that the difference of going just right 
or a little wrong, will be the difference of finding 
yourself in good quarters, or in a miserable bog or 
slough at the end of your journey." 

One of the most important subjects on which to 
stand "just right " is the matter of drinking, for of all 
the terrible curses that have destroyed humanity, in- 
temperance is the most fearful. Sir Matthew Hale, 
one of the oldest Chief Justices of England and one of 
the purest of men, declared as the result of his obser- 
vation during his long experience on the bench, that 
four-fifths of the crimes and offences which had been 
committed proceeded from strong drink, and in our 
own days Charles Kingsley, the celebrated divine and 
writer, of London, who had unusual opportunities for 
close observation, said that if dyspepsia and liquors 
were banished from society, there would be no crime, 

6 4 



DRINK AND ITS DOINGS. 65 

or at least so little, that we should not consider it worth 
mentioning. 

As much money is spent in our country every 
twenty years for liquors, as the entire property of the 
country is worth. How would our earth be redeemed 
if a vice which causes four-fifths of the crime, and this 
fearful waste of substance could be removed. A 
quaint old writer says: " There is no sin which doth 
more deface God's image than drunkenness; it dis- 
guiseth a person, and doth even unman him. Drunk- 
enness makes him have the throat of a fish, the belly 
of a swine, and the head of an ass. Drunkenness is 
the shame of nature, the extinguisher of reason, the 
shipwreck of chastity, and the murder of conscience. 
The cup kills more than the cannon; it causes dropsies, 
catarrhs, apoplexies; it rills the eye with fire, and the 
legs with water, and turns the body into a hospital." 

Drink perverts the appetite, weakens the will, de- 
bases the moral nature. It makes a man coarse, 
brutal and repulsive and seems to cast out every ele- 
ment of manliness, and principle of honor. The only 
safe rule is to let it alone. If there is not sufficient reso- 
lution to resist the first glass, what folly to suppose 
that the tenth or fiftieth can be put away, when the 
habit of drinking is more or less formed, and an ap- 
petite created. 

Samuel Johnson, when dining with Hannah Moore, 
was requested to take a glass of wine with her. Said 
he, " I can't drink a little, child, therefore I never 



66 DRINK AND ITS DOINGS. 

touch it. Abstinence is as easy to me as temperance 
would be difficult." The sad experience of thousands 
of ruined men will be but repeated, if their terrible ex- 
ample of beginning to drink moderately is followed 

A talented clergyman, obliged to abandon his 
church and profession because he was a drunkard, 
thus spoke in his closing address: " I well remember 
the time when I thought it strange that others drank 
and ruined themselves with alcohol. I am glad that 
there are so many young men here this morning, that 
I may lift my voice in warning, and beg them to 
profit by my example. You think now that you are 
strong, and in no danger, I well remember the time 
when I believed the same. Twelve years ago, when I 
reached forth my inexperienced hand to take the in- 
toxicating cup, I thought I was strong; but I developed 
a habit that now holds me in chains, and in the most 
abject slavery that humanity was ever subjected to. 
It holds me in its embrace when I seek my bed for re- 
pose; it disturbs my dreams during the weary hours 
of the night, and seizes me as its prey when I rise up 
in the morning to enter upon the duties of the day," 
and then looking back at his once bright, but then 
ruined prospects, he bade them to profit by his ex- 
ample. 

Dr. Nott, the venerable president of Union College, 
made this terrible charge to Christian drinkers: " It is 
the reputable Christian wine drinkers who are the men 
who send forth from the high places of society, and 



DRINK AND ITS DOINGS. 6? 

sometimes even from the portals of the sanctuary, an 
unsuspected, unrebuked but powerful influence, which 
is secretly and silently doing on every side — among 
the young, among the aged, among even females — its 
work of death." 

At a religious convention an influential clergyman 
spoke vehemently in favor of the moderate use of wine, 
and denounced those who would banish from their 
tables this token of hospitality. On taking his seat a 
venerable layman arose, and with a voice trembling 
with emotion said that he should not attempt to an- 
swer the argument of the clergyman, but relate an in- 
cident. He said: " I once knew a father in moderate 
circumstances, who had a beloved son whom he edu- 
cated at college at great sacrifice. While at college 
the son became dissipated, but on his return home he 
was induced to reform. After several years, when he 
had completed his professional studies and was about 
to leave home to enter into business, he was invited to 
dine with a neighboring clergyman noted for his hos- 
pitality and social qualities. At this dinner, wine was 
introduced and offered to him and he refused. It was 
again offered and refused, but at length the young man 
was ridiculed for his strictness, and he drank and fell, 
and from that moment became a confirmed drunkard, 
and long since has found a drunkard's grave. " Mr. 
Moderator," continued the old man, with streaming 
eyes, "I am that father; and it was at the table of the 
clergyman who has just taken his seat, that his token 



68 DRINK AND ITS DOINGS. 

of hospitality ruined the son I shall never cease to 
mourn. 1 ' 

Can anything be more terrible than for a man to be 
within the remorseless grasp of this debasing appetite, 
to realize his degradation, and to see his approaching 
doom! That child of genius, Burns, the Scottish 
poet, declared that if a barrel of rum were placed in 
one corner of the room, and a loaded cannon were 
ready to be fired upon him if he approached it, he had 
no choice, but must go to the rum. 

A story is told of a stage-driver on the Pacific Coast 
who was dying, and who in his last moments kept 
moving his foot as if feeling for something. On being 
asked what he wanted, he faintly whispered: "I am 
going down grade, and cannot get my foot on the 
brake," and then died. What a striking illustration 
this is of the drunkard's rapid course down the declivity 
of life, and his powerlessness to check himself. 

Said the brilliant Tom Marshall when he came to 
die, after a dissipated life, "Well, well, this is the end. 
Tom Marshall is dying, dying, not having a suit of 
clothes in which to be buried; dying upon a borrowed 
bed, covered with a borrowed sheet, in a house built 
for charity. Well, well, it is meet and proper," and 
thus with his thoughts reviewing the folly of his course, 
he passed away. 

The gifted Charles Lamb thus uttered his sad wail 
of warning and helplessness: " The waters have gone 
over me. But out of the black depths, could I be 
heard I would cry out to all those who have but set 



DRINK AND ITS DOINGS. 69 

one foot in the perilous flood. Could the youth, to 
whom the flavor of his first wine is delicious as the 
opening scene of life, or the entering upon some newly 
discovered paradise, look into my desolation, and be 
made to understand what a dreary thing it is when a 
man shall feel himself going down a precipice with 
open eyes and a passive will — to see his destruction 
and have no power to stop it, yet feel it all the way 
emanating from himself; to see all goodness emptied 
out of him, and yet not be able to forget a time when 
it was otherwise, to bear about the piteous spectacle 
of his own ruin; could he see my fevered eye, feverish 
with last night's drinking, and feverishly looking for 
to-night's repetition of the folly; could he but feel the 
body of the death out of which I cry hourly, with 
feebler outcry, to be delivered — it were enough to make 
him dash the sparkling beverage to the earth in all 
its mantling temptation." 

St. Ambrose, one of the early Christian fathers, tells 
of a drunkard who, being informed that unless he ab- 
stained from drunkenness and excess, that he would 
lose his eyes, replied : ' Farewell, sweet light, then. 
I must have pleasure in that sin; I must drink, though 
I drink out my eyes; then farewell eyes, and farewell 
light and all." 

Can any one who reads these sad confessions of great 
and talented men, who have been addicted to drink, 
dare hope to follow their example and not reap the 
harvest of woe which they gathered? That great man, 
Dr. Guthrie, in describing what he had seen in the 



7<D DRINK AND ITS DOINGS. 

drunken homes of Edinburgh, says: "I have heard 
the wail of children crying for bread, and their mother 
had none to give them. I have seen the babe pulling 
breasts as dry as if the starved mother had been dead. 
I have known a father turn a step- daughter into the 
street at night, bidding the sobbing girl who bloomed 
into womanhood earn her bread there as others were 
doing. I have bent over the foul pallet of a dying lad 
to hear him whisper, and his father and mother, who 
were sitting half drunk by the fireside had pulled the 
blankets off his body to sell them for drink. I have 
seen the children, blanched like plants growing in a 
cellar — for weeks they never breathed a mouthful of 
fresh air for want of rags to cover their nakedness; 
and they lived in continual terror of a drunken father 
or mother coming home to beat them. I don't rec- 
ollect ever seeing a mother in these wretched dwell- 
ings dandling her infant, or of hearing the little crea- 
ture crow or laugh. These are some of drink's do- 
ings; but nobody can know the misery I suffered amid 
those scenes of wretchedness, woe, want and sin." 

Young man, as you cherish all the fond hopes and 
bright promises of your youth; as you value the lofty 
aspirations of your ambitious manhood; as you would 
preserve the brain to conceive, the will to direct and 
the arm to execute in all their might as God has given 
them to you; as you would fulfill your obligations to 
society, and to your family; as you would spare sor- 
row to the parents who lean upon you, do not tamper 
with this fearful vice. 



flQAI^E F)OMB pWOH^AGWIYB. 




OME one has said that the three sweetest 



0r words in our language are, "Mother, Home 
and Heaven/' We may well pity that 
being so unfortuate as not to have enjoyed the bless- 
ings of a happy home, for in the battle of life we need 
to be armed with the counsels and prayers of a mother, 
and all holy and sweet home influences, if we are to 
successfully meet the snares and perils which will be- 
set us. Home is the paradise in which this wonderful 
world is first revealed to our growing consciousness, 
and as from its safe shelter we look out upon life we 
form our estimate of it according to the impressions 
and teachings we there receive. 

If the home is brightened with the sunshine of love, 
its radiance is reflected in all around us, and the whole 
world appears to us only as one family, — full of kind 
thoughts, tender sympathies, gentle ministrations and 
noble deeds. If the home life is sour, gloomy and un- 
happy, then we see the whole world through the same 
atmosphere of misery and discontent; and it is to us 
only a dull, dismal prison, crowded with selfish souls, 
whose petty strifes and base actions cause perpetual 
turmoils and unhappiness. 

A contented heart is better than great riches 

7* 



72 MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE. 

Many a wealthy man looks back to hours in his early 
life when he was far happier than now. A millionaire 
gives a leaf from his own experience: "I'll tell you 
when was the happiest hour of my life. At the age of 
one-and-twenty I had saved up eight hundred dollars. 
I was earning five hundred dollars a year, and my 
father did not take it from me, only requiring that I 
should pay for my board. At the age of twenty-two 
I had secured a pretty cottage, just outside of the city. 
I was able to pay two-thirds of the value down, and also 
to furnish it respectably. I was married on Sunday — a 
Sunday in June — at my father's house. My wife had 
come to me poor in purse, but rich in the wealth of 
womanhood. The Sabbath and the Sabbath night 
we passed beneath my father's roof, and on Monday 
morning I went to my work, leaving my mother and 
sisters to help in preparing my home. On Monday 
evening, when the labors of the day were done, I went 
not to the paternal shelter, as in the past, but to my 
own house — my own home. The holy atmosphere of 
that hour seems to surround me even now in my 
memory. I opened the door of my cottage and 
entered. I laid my hat upon the little stand in the 
hall, and passed on to the kitchen — our kitchen and 
dining-room were all in one then. I pushed open the 
kitchen door. The table was set against the wall; 
the evening meal was ready, prepared by the hands 
of her who had come to be my help-meet in deed as 
well as in name; and by the table, with a throbbing, 



MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE. 73 

expectant look upon her lovely and loving face, stood 
my wife. 

" I tried to speak but could not. I could only clasp 
the waiting angel to my bosom, thus showing to her 
the ecstatic burden of my heart. The years have 
passed — long, long years — and wealth has flowed in 
upon me, and I am honored and envied; but, as true 
as heaven, I would give it all, every dollar, for the joy 
of the hour of that June evening in the long, long 
ago!" 

It is the home and its influences that largely mould 
the character and shape the future destiny of the 
young. Byron had a miserable home and a passionate 
mother, and his whole life was blighted and unhappy. 
He sneered at purity, doubted all goodness, and scoffed 
at sacred things. His wretched life and profligate 
career, were but the legitimate consequences of his de- 
fective home training. Hundreds of illustrious names 
might be mentioned, of those who were equally exposed 
to temptation, but who resisted it because they were 
strengthened by the wise training and tender memo- 
ries of happy homes. 

O ye builders of homes, who hold in your hands this 
great power for good or evil, do not make the fatal 
mistake of caring for everything else but this; of 
spending all your time, and exhausting all your ener- 
gies in pursuit of wealth, society, honor or fame, for- 
getting that, compared to a happy home, all these are 
but " vanity and vexation of spirit," 



74 MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE. 

Perhaps you are hoarding your wealth and shorten- 
ing your days by over-work, in order to secure a com- 
petence for the future of your children, while your 
home is so bare, and its life so barren that they will 
leave it, and yourself, at the first opportunity without 
regret. Far better for them if they should leave it 
without a dollar of the store you are gathering up, could 
they but carry away with them tender memories of its 
sheltering roof, and a wealth of warm affection for you. 

Remember that youth comes to us but once; that it 
is a season of golden hopes, of overflowing spirits and of 
joyous anticipations, and that it demands surroundings 
suited to these emotions. You may require no recre- 
ation but such as your business and daily toil supply; 
your mind may be absorbed in your plans and schemes, 
which appear to you of almost as much importance as 
the affairs of an empire, and with this you are satisfied; 
but, if so, your eyes are not young eyes, and your 
heart must have long ago been dead to the voices of 
your youth, to expect that your children will be con- 
tented and happy, unless you respond to some of the 
impulses of their joyous natures. If you have not 
already the refining power of music in your little 
circle, procure a piano or organ, and encourage your 
children to sing and play. Adorn your walls with 
pictures and thus cultivate a love of art; subscribe to 
a standard magazine or two, and provide them with 
such books as will give them glimpses of what is going 
on in the world around them, and make them familiar 



MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE. 75 

with the best current and standard literature. Encour- 
age a love for flowers and flower culture; and do not 
be ashamed, nor too busy, to join them sometimes in 
their games and sports. Do not keep your boys at 
work so constantly as to make them hate the old farm, 
but sometimes let them have part of an afternoon to 
themselves. Give them some tools with which to 
exercise their mechanical ingenuity on rainy days and 
at odd times. Let them have a part of the garden for 
their own pleasure and profit, and a sheep or colt of 
their own to care for and manage; and all these things 
will be so many anchors to fasten them to home and 
establish their loyalty to it. 

Some one has wisely said. u I would be glad 
to see more parents understand that when they 
spend money judiciously to improve and adorn 
the house, and the grounds around it, they are 
in effect paying their children a premium to stay 
at home as much as possible and enjoy it; but when 
they spend money unnecessarily in fine clothing or 
jewelry for their children, they are paying them a 
premium to spend their time away from home, — that 
is, in those places where they can attract the most at- 
tention, and make the most display." 

Above all, there must be the spirit of kindness and 
harmony; for without this, all else would be mockery. 
An old laborer, being remonstrated with by his pastor 
for not bringing up his boys as he should, said: "I 
dunno know how 'tis, sir ; I order them down 



j6 MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE. 

to pray every night and morning, and when they 
won't go down I knock 'em down, and yet they ain't 
good." 

Parental authority is indispensable, but it must not 
degenerate into despotism, for despotism in families, 
as in nations, ever creates rebellion. Of all tyranny, 
that in the home is the most odious. Thackeray has 
said: " In our society there is no law to control the 
king of the fireside. He is master of property, happi- 
ness — life, almost. He may kill a wife gradually, and 
be no more questioned, than the Grand Seignor who 
drowns a slave at midnight. He may make slaves or 
hypocrites of his children, or friends and freemen; or 
drive them into revolt against the natural law of love. 
When the annals of each little reign are shown the 
Supreme Master, under whom we hold sovereignty, 
histories will be laid bare of household tyrants, cruel 
as Amurath, savage as Nero, and reckless and disso- 
lute as Charles/' 

An attractive home will be ruled by the law of love. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes has said: " The sound of a 
kiss is not so loud as that of a cannon, but its echo 
lasts a great deal longer." When your children do 
well, do not be afraid to tell them so. Thomas Hughes, 
the hearty, whole-souled author of " Tom Brown at 
Rugby," says: " You can never get a man's best out of 
him without praise," and how much more do children 
need it. It is like sunshine to them, without which there 
can be neither buds, blossoms, nor fruit. 



MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE. 77 

This custom of a certain family might be followed 
with like happy results in other homes. 

In a certain farm-house, twenty years ago, a great 
blank-book was kept, and labeled " Home Journal." 
Every night some one made an entry in it. Father 
set down the sale of the calves, or mother the cut of 
the baby's eye-tooth; or, perhaps, Jenny wrote a full 
account of the sleighing party last night; or Bob the 
proceedings of the Phi Beta Club. On towards the mid- 
dle of the book there was an entry of Jenny's marriage, 
and one of the younger girls had added a description of 
the bridesmaids' dresses; and long afterward there was 
written, " This day father died," in Bob's trembling 
hand. There was a blank of many months after that. 
But nothing could have served better to bind that 
family of headstrong boys and girls together than the 
keeping of this book. They come back to the old 
homestead now, men and women with grizzled hair, 
to see their mother, who is still living, and turn over 
its pages reverently, with many a hearty laugh, or with 
tears coming into their eyes. It is their childhood 
come back again in visible shape. 

Parents, depend upon it, you have no holier nor 
higher work to do than to make home attractive. In 
after years your endeavors will be repaid a hundred 
fold by the grateful affection, the happy memories, and 
the noble lives of your children, who, whatever their 
success elsewhere, will ever turn to the old homestead 
and its inmates as the Mecca of their earthly pilgrimage. 



(She (Qission op CQusig. 




OME one has said that music "washes 



Wr away from the soul the dust of every-day 
^\~/ life." It thus keeps the spirits fresh and 
elastic, and better fitted to combat the trials and per- 
plexities of the daily routine of toil. In the marvelous 
complex structure of our nature, we are gifted with 
certain qualities of emotion, imagination and enthusiasm, 
which wield a power superior to that of the body, and 
exercise a prerogative all their own. Music is one of 
the most potent agencies to arouse these powers, and 
through them to exercise a most important influence 
on our lives. It enables us to forget care and sorrow, 
and drives away fatigue, and all the fogs of gloomy 
dejection; it rouses to unwonted activity the latent 
powers within us, inspires the heart with courage, and 
nerves it with new resolutions ; it strengthens the will 
to carry forward its designs, gives to the world about 
us an aspect of joy and brightness, and often effects a 
complete transformation in all our surroundings. 
Martin Luther said, " The devil cannot bear singing," 
and surely there is nothing like it to cast out the 
demons of dark foreboding and discontent. Richard 
Cceur de Lion, Kin^ of England, in one of his crusades 

'/S 



THE MISSION OF MUSIC. 79 

to the Holy Land, was taken captive and imprisoned 
in an unknown dungeon. A favorite servant of his 
named Blondel, disguised himself as a minstrel and 
traveled from one dungeon to another playing familiar 
airs before the bars, and at length he came to the one 
where the king was confined, and was answered by the 
voice of Richard from within. This led to the ran- 
som of the king, and he was restored to his throne and 
people. So does music rescue many souls from dark 
dungeons of despair, and restore them to their right- 
ful place in the world. 

During a critical moment in the battle of Waterloo, 
Wellington discovered to his surprise, that a regiment 
of Highlanders began to waver. He found that the 
cause of so unusual an occurrence was, that the band 
had ceased to play. He ordered at once that the bag- 
pipes — their own national music — be played with the 
greatest spirit, and the effect was like magic, — the 
Highlanders rallied at once, and went forward to the 
terrible conflict with the most ardent enthusiasm. In 
the battle of life, when the day seems against us, and 
we begin to falter, then it is the mission of music to 
inspire us with fresh courage and enthusiasm, and to 
lead us to victory. When Elisha Kent Kane and his 
men were imprisoned by the fearful rigors of an Arctic 
winter, they were saved from despair, during their 
months of weary solitude and misery, by the music 
from an old violin, which one of the men had carried 
with him. Thus were they aided to keep up their 



So THE MISSION OF MUSIC. 

spirits and survive the terrible ordeal of dreary isola- 
tion. 

By the power of music, wonders have been wrought 
which seemed simply impossible to perform. When 
Napoleon was conducting his army across the Alps, 
they came to a place where they could not get the 
ammunition wagons over the rocks. He went to the 
leader of the band, looked over his list of music, se- 
lected a spirited march, and ordered the whole band 
to play it with vigor. The result was that in some 
way or other the ponderous wagons scaled the seem- 
ingly inaccessible rocks, and the army moved on. 

But music has not only the power to inspire the 
heart with heroic daring, and vigorous resolves, but to 
melt it to pity and tenderness. It is related of a 
Turkish conqueror that he captured a Persian city and 
took thirty thousand prisoners; and, although they 
had submitted to him and laid down their arms, yet he 
formed the inhuman resolution of putting them all to 
death. Among them was a musician who asked as a 
special favor that he might be brought before the con- 
queror. This was done; and seizing a musical instru- 
ment he accompanied it with his voice, and sang of the 
triumphs of the conqueror, the capture of the city, and 
the incidents that had transpired in connection with it. 
The harmony was so exquisite, and the recital of the 
events so touching, that at last the hard heart of the 
tyrant relented; he changed his purpose, and com- 
manded that the remainder of the prisoners should be 



THE MISSION OF MUSIC. • 8 1 

set at liberty. Ralph Waldo Emerson relates an in- 
cident of a poor wretch who was brought up for some 
offense before a western police court, and fined. He 
was told that he might go if he would pay his fine, 
but he had neither money nor friends. He took a 
flute from his pocket and began to play. The jurors 
waked up, the officers forgot their duties, the judge 
began to beat time, and by general consent he was 
allowed to go on his way. Clara Louise Kellogg, 
when once visiting a lunatic asylum, after singing for 
the more quiet patients to their great delight, re- 
quested that she might sing to the mad people. She 
was accompanied by the officers and attendants to the 
wards where the most ungovernable were confined, 
and in a moment her glorious voice stilled the tumult 
and discord of that motley throng. The wondrous 
melody seemed to kindle for a few brief moments in 
those crazed brains, the withered ashes of long lost 
reason and consciousness. They smiled, they nodded, 
they wept, they called her an angel, gazed at her with 
rapture, and crowded about her, eager to touch her 
hand, her dress, or her feet. So can music soothe 
and control beclouded intellects and ungovernable pas- 
sions, even in those who are farthest removed from 
human influence. 

But it is the mission of music especially to make 
happier, and more attractive the home. It is said 
that in the time of Alfred the Great, it was the custom 
to pass the harp to each of the company in turn, to sing 



82 - THE MISSION OF MUSIC. 

and play, so universal was the love and practice of 
music. Well would it be in these later days if there 
were the same general knowledge and love of song. 
How many homes now silent or discordant would be 
joyful if the influence of song was let in. 

It may be taken as a safe rule generally, that those 
are happy families in which there is a good deal of 
music, and if the history of such families could be 
traced, it would be found that they turn out the least 
number of black sheep, and the largest proportion of 
useful men and women. Music is a safeguard against 
temptation; it is a delightful recreation which refreshes 
the mind and refines the heart ; it is one of the best 
introductions into cultivated and desirable society, and 
affords a vast fund of the most delightful enjoyment. 

The young man who leaves home and has a love of 
music, is strongly fortified against the incursions of 
lonesomeness and discontent, when left to his own 
company, — which loneliness becomes the starting point 
with many, to bad associations and evil habits. 

It is interesting to notice how the love of music 
seems to be one of the inherent impulses of the human 
heart, an impulse so powerful that it survives even 
barbarism itself. There is scarcely a savage race but 
what have their rude musical instruments, and make 
the attempt to express some phase of experience and 
emotion in song. As an eloquent writer has beauti- 
fully observed: "Music is universally appreciated 
tnd practiced. The English plow boy sings as he 



THE MISSION OF MUSIC. 83 

drives his team; the Scotch Highlander makes the 
glens and gray moors resound with his beautiful song; 
the Swiss, Tyrolese and Carpathians lighten their 
labor by music; the muleteer of Spain cares little who 
is on the throne or behind it, if he can only have his 
early carol; the vintager of Sicily has his evening 
hymn, even beside the fire of the burning mount; the 
fisherman of Naples has his boat song, to which his 
rocking boat beats time on that beautiful sea ; and the 
gondolier of Venice still keeps up his midnight sere- 
nade." Cultivate, then, music in the home, and let 
the happy voices blend in sweet song in the family 
circle on long winter evenings, or in rambles under 
summer skies. 

" Such songs have power to quiet 
The restless pulse of care, 
And come like the benediction 
That follows after prayer." 

Let the household ring with melody, and depend 
upon it its blessed influences and associations will 
never, never be forgotten. 




fl Sunny (Semper 




F it were possible for us to invoke the aid of 
some powerful genii, who, as we passed through 
i c (§C ^ e > cou ^ summon troops of loving friends 
around us, and make our pathway radiant with 
their smiles and blessings, we should think no labor 
too aiduous, no sacrifice too great to procure such in- 
estimable happiness. If such a beneficent fairy held 
court and dispensed such favors, though she dwelt in 
the uttermost parts of the earth, what caravans of 
eager pilgrims would throng to that favorite realm. 
We often forget that the priceless charm which will 
secure to us all these desirable gifts is within , our 
reach. It is the charm of a sunny temper, — a talisman 
more potent than station, more precious than gold, 
more to be desired than fine rubies. It is an aroma, 
whose fragrance fills the air with the odors of Paradise. 
It is an amulet, at sight of which dark clouds of per 
plexity and hideous shapes of discord flee away. It 
wreathes the face with smiles, creates friends, promotes 
cheerfulness, awakens tenderness, and scatters happi- 
ness. It fills the heart with joy, it robs sorrow of its 
pain and makes of earth a very heaven below. 

It was written of Leigh Hunt: " 'Tis always sun- 
rise somewhere in the world. In the heart of Hunt, 

84' 



A SUNNY TEMPER. 85 

Orion was always purpling the sky." Would that the 
world contained more of such sunny natures, whose 
presence makes joy infectious. A sunny temper makes 
graceful the garb of poverty. It smooths the rough 
places in the pathway of life, and like oil on troubled 
waters, it calms the fierce passions and unruly natures 
with which it comes in contact. 

Said Gen. Jackson to a young lady in whose wel- 
fare he took a great interest: "I cannot forebear 
pointing out to you, my dear child, the great advan- 
tages that will result from a temperate conduct and 
sweetness of temper to all people on all occasions. 
Never forget that you are a gentlewoman, and let your 
words and actions make you gentle. I never heard 
your mother — your dear good mother — say a harsh or 
hasty thing in my life. Endeavor to imitate her. I 
am quick and hasty in temper, but it is a misfortune 
which, not having been sufficiently restrained in my 
youth, has caused me inexpressible pain. It has given 
me more trouble to subdue this impetuosity than any- 
thing else I ever undertook." 

Some one has remarked that, " We have not fulfilled 
every duty, unless we have fulfilled that of being pleas- 
ant.'' Alas! that this is so often forgotten, that thous- 
ands of homes are made gloomy and repulsive by the un- 
happy exhibitions of ill temper, from a nervous and over- 
worked mother, or a well-meaning but irritable father- 
Could we but realize that it is a duty to cultivate a 
genial disposition, and to restrain those exhibitions of 



86 A SUNNY TEMPER. 

temper which we thoughtlessly display from mere whim 
and impulse, how much unhappiness would be prevent- 
ed, and how many hearts and homes made happier. 

A sunny temper is also conducive to health. A 
medical authority of highest repute, affirms that " ex- 
cessive labor, exposure to wet and cold, deprivation of 
sufficient quantities of necessary and wholesome food, 
habitual bad lodging, sloth and intemperance are all 
deadly enemies to human life, but they are none of 
them so bad as violent and ungoverned passions, — that 
men and women have frequently lived to an advanced 
age in spite of these, but that instances are very rare 
where people of irascible tempers live to extreme old 
age." As the possession of sound health is one of the 
greatest blessings of life, it is the highest wisdom to 
form a habit of looking on the bright side, and of 
meeting the manifold vexations and annoyances of 
daily life without worry and friction. 

Blessed is the child whose opening years and first 
impressions of life have been unfolded in an atmosphere 
of love. Better than lordly palace with all the adorn- 
ments which limitless wealth can procure, or esthetic 
taste suggest, if love be lacking, is the hovel of poverty 
if a sunny temper, like an angel of light, illumines its 
humble surroundings. 

" To the sunny soul that is full of hope 
And whose beautiful trust ne'er faileth, 

The skies are blue and the fields are green, 
Tho' the wintry storm prevaileth. 



Be ©awienw. 




|USKIN, the great art critic, says, " People are 
always talking of perseverence, and courage, 
and fortitude; but patience is the finest and 
worthiest part of fortitude, and the rarest too." 

It has been said that "impatience acts as a blight on a 
blossom; it may wound the budding forth of the noblest 
fruit; relative to the dispensations of Providence, it is 
ingratitude; relative to our own purposes and attain- 
ments, it will be found to impede their progress." 

This incident has been related of Dr. Arnold, of 
Rugby : He once lost all patience with a dull scholar, 
when the pupil looked up in his face and said, " Why 
do you speak angrily, sir? Indeed, I am doing the 
best I can." Years after, the doctor used to tell the 
story to his own children, and say, " I never felt so 
ashamed of myself in my life. That look and that 
speech I have never forgotten." 

Said one of the wisest and best educators of our age, 
"If I only had one word to speak to my boys, it should 
be patience, patience, patience; over and over again." 

The results of patient instruction in some of our edu- 
cational institutions are amazing. A writer in a popu- 
lar periodical, thus describes some of the methods 

employed to bring about these results: "Here is a 

87 



88 BE PATIENT. 

child six or seven years old, unable to walk, stand, talk, 
or taste, and hardly capable of noticing what happens 
around her. The superintendent of an institution for the 
instruction of idiots takes this girl and spends days and 
weeks and months teaching her to stand in a corner. 
After five months constant and daily labor he is 
rejoiced to see that she has moved, of her own accord, 
one foot a half-inch forward! Therefore this patient 
teacher announces triumphantly that the child can be 
cured. And she is cured, for in time she becomes one 
of the best dancers in the institution ! Besides this, her 
mind and body improve satisfactorily in other respects. 
Now, if men and women can be found who will thus 
labor and toil for years, with unremitting attention 
and care and solicitude, to awaken the dormant ener- 
gies of poor little idiots, who at first give about as 
much encouragement to their teachers as might be 
expected from a lot of clams or oysters, and such sur- 
prising and happy results are thereby brought about, 
what might not be expected if our intelligent and sane 
children were treated with something of that earnest, 
thoughtful, untiring care which these poor idiots 
receive." 

An old teacher related this incident from his own 
experience, which illustrates what patient effort will 
accomplish : I know a boy who was preparing to enter 
the Junior class of the New York University. He 
was studying trigonometry, and I gave him three 
examples for the next lesson. The following day he 



BE PATIENT. 89 

came into my room to demonstrate his problems. 
Two of them he understood, but the third — a very 
difficult one — he had not performed. I said to him, 
" Shall I help you? " " No, sir. I can and will do it, 
if you give me time." I said, " I will give you all the 
time you wish.'" The next day he came into my 
room to recite a lesson in the same study. " Well, 
Simon, have you worked that example? " "No, sir," 
he answered; " but I can and will do it, if you give me 
a little more time." " Certainly, you shall have all the 
time you desire." I always like these boys who are 
determined to do their own work, for they make our 
best scholars, and men too. The third morning you 
should have seen Simon enter my room. I knew he 
had it, for his whole face told the story of his success. 
Yes, he had it, notwithstanding it had cost him many 
hours of the severest mental labor. Not only had he 
solved the problem, but, what was of infinitely greater 
importance to him, he had begun to develop mathe- 
matical powers, which, under the inspiration of " I can 
and will," he has continued to cultivate, until to-day he 
is professor of mathematics in one of our largest 
colleges, and one of the ablest mathematicians of his 
years in our country. 

George McDonald gives utterance to these hopeful 
words: " I record the conviction that in one way or 
another, special individual help is given to every crea- 
ture to endure to the end. It has been my own 
experience, that always when suffering, whether mental 



0)0 BE PATIENT. 

or bodily, approached the point where further endur- 
ance appeared impossible, the pulse of it began to ebb 
and a lull ensued. 

You are tender-hearted, and you want to be true, 
and are trying to be ; learn these two things : Never 
be discouraged because good things get on so slowly 
here; and never fail daily to do that good which lies 
next to your hand. Do not be in a hurry, but be dil- 
igent. Enter into the sublime patience of the Lord. 
Trust to God to weave your little thread into the 
great web, though the pattern shows it not yet. 
When God's people are able and willing thus to labor 
and wait, remember that one day is with the Lord 
as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one 
day; the grand harvest of the ages shall come to its 
reaping, and the day shall broaden itself to a thousand 
years, and the thousand years shall show themselves 
as a perfect and finished day." 

One of the great hearts of the earth has said: a O, 
impatient ones ! Did the leaves say nothing to you as 
they murmured when you came hither to-day? They 
were not created this spring, but months ago; and the 
summer just begun, will fashion others for another year. 
At the bottom of every leaf-stem is a cradle, and in it 
an infant germ; and the winds will rock it, and the 
birds will sing to it all summer long; and next year it 
will unfold. So God is working for you, and carrying 
forward to the perfect development all the processes of 
your lives." 



BE PATIENT. 9 1 

That was a sublime instance of patience which was 
displayed in the career of the renowned Governor- 
General of India, Warren Hastings. When a child, 
seven years of age, he lay beside a small rivulet which 
ran through the estate of Daylesford, — once the home 
of his ancestors. He made a resolution to recover the 
estate, and passed out into, the world. He became a 
man, went to India, was soldier, financier, and legisla- 
tor, and became the ruler of lift)' millions of people, but 
amidst all his cares, and toils, and successes, he was 
patiently working for the consummation of his childish 
plan, and at last he recovered the lost estate, and in his 
old age went back to it to die. 

If you are young, and the mountain of knowledge 
seems so high and steep, and your powers so weak and 
unsteady, be patient. "Heaven is not reached by a 
single bound," and only step by step, little by little, 
can the dazzling heights of human achievement be 
attained. 

If you are a parent, and your head aches, and your 
nerves tingle with the boisterous sports of your irre- 
pressible brood, be patient. Do not repress their inno- 
cent mirth, or silence their questionings as to this new, 
strange world which they have entered. Follow the 
precept of a wise instructor: " Bide patiently the end- 
less- questionings of your children. Do not roughly 
crush the rising spirit of free inquiry with an impatient 
word or frown, nor attempt, on the contrary, a long 
instructive reply to every casual question. Seek 



92 BE PATIENT. 

rather to deepen their curiosity. Convert, if possible, 
the careless question into a profound and earnest 
inquiry. Let your reply send the little questioner 
forth, not so much, proud of what he has learned, as 
anxious to know more. Happy, thou, if in giving 
your child the molecule of truth he asks for, you can 
whet his curiosity with a.glimpse of the mountain of 
truth, lying beyond; so wilt thou send forth a philos- 
opher, and not a silly pedant, into the world." 

If age is coming upon you with its shadows, and as 
you look back through the departed years, they seem 
but the record of your disappointed hopes, still be 
patient. Beecher has left these encouraging words: 
" If you have failed for this life, do not fail for the 
other, too. There is very much that may yet be done 
in the afternoon and twilight of men's lives, if they are 
hopeful and active." 

Angel of Patience! sent to calm 
Our feverish brows with cooling balm; 
To lay the storms of hope and fear, 
And reconcile life's smile and tear; 
The throbs of wounded pride to still 
And make our own our Father's will! 
O thou who mournest on thy way, 
With longings for the close of day; 
He walks with thee, that Angel kind, 
And gently whispers, " Be resigned; 
Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell 
The dear Lord ordereth all things well." 



Building (Sha^agtbi^. 




'N old man, full of honors, having held 
many positions of trust and responsibility, 
said to a young man: "At your age both 
position and wealth appear enduring things ; 
but at mine, a man sees that nothing lasts but character. 1 " 
A well-rounded character is a steady growth, the 
result of years of patient well-doing. Some one has 
thus beautifully described the process: "Did you 
ever watch a sculptor slowly fashioning a human coun- 
tenance? It is not moulded at once. It is not struck 
out at a single blow. It is painfully and laboriously 
wrought. It is a work of time; but at last the full 
likeness comes out, and stands fixed and unchanging 
in the solid marble. So does a man carve out his own 
moral likeness. Every day he adds something to the 
work. A thousands acts of thought, and will and ef- 
fort shape the features and expressions of the soul. 
Habits of love, piety and truth, habits of falsehood, 
passion or hatred, silently mould and fashion it, till 
at length it wears the likeness of God, or the image of 
a demon." 

Several years ago a party of eminent divines at a 
dinner table turned their conversation on the qualities 
of self-made men. They each admitted that they be- 
longed to that class, except a certain bishop, who re- 

93 



94 BUILDING CHARACTER. 

mained silent, and was intensely absorbed in the repast. 
The host was determined to draw him out, and so, 
addressing him, said: "All at this table are self-made 
men, unless the bishop is an exception." The bishop 
promptly replied, " I am not made yet," and the reply 
contained a profound truth. So. long as life lasts, with 
its discipline of joy or sorrow, its opportunities for 
good or evil, so long our characters are being shaped 
and fixed. One of the essentials in the building of a 
good character is to cherish noble thoughts. Milton 
said: " He who would write heroic poems, must make 
his whole life an heroic poem." We are responsible 
for our thoughts, and unless we could command them, 
mental and moral excellence would be impossible. 
Said James Martineau : " God insists on having a con- 
currence between our practice and our thoughts. If 
we proceed to make a contradiction between them, He 
forthwith begins to abolish it, and if the will will not rise 
to the reason, the reason must be degraded to the will." 

Another essential element in building a good char- 
acter is an intense love for the right. Charles Kingsley 
has well said: " Let any one set his heart to do what 
is right and nothing else, and it will not be long ere 
his brow is stamped with all that goes to make up the 
heroic expression, with noble indignation, noble self- 
restraint, great hopes, great sorf ows, perhaps even with 
the print of the martyr's crown of thorns." 

Dean Stanley said, speaking to a crowd of children 
at Westminster Abbey : ' I knew once a very famous 
man, who lived to be very old — who lived to be eighty- 



BUILDING CHARACTER. 95 

eight. He was always the delight of those about him. 
He always stood up for what was right. His eye was 
like an eagle's when it flashed fire at what was wrong. 
And how early do you think he began to do this ? I 
have an old grammar which belonged to him, all tat- 
tered and torn, which he had when a little boy at 
school, and what do you think I found written in his 
own hand on the very first page ? Why, these words : 
1 Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, to silence 
vicious tongues — be just, and fear not.' That was his 
rule all through life, and he was loved and honored 
down to the day when he was carried to his grave." 

Said Plato: ''Disregarding the honors that most 
men value, and looking to the truth, I shall endeavor 
in reality to live as virtuously as I can, and when I die 
to die so. And I invite all other men to the utmost of 
my power; and you too I in turn invite to this contest, 
which I affirm surpasses all contests here." 

That was a grand sentiment uttered by Thomas 
Carlyle, and worthy to be the watchword of every 
earnest life: " Let him who gropes painfully in dark- 
ness of uncertain light, and prays vehemently that the 
dawn may ripen into day, lay this precept well to 
heart, which to me was of incalculable service, ( Do 
the duty which lies nearest thee, which thou knowest 
to be a duty; thy second duty will already have be- 
come clear.' " 

When Sir Fowell Buxton, who carried through the 
British Parliament the bill for the abolition of slavery 



96 BUILDING CHARACTER. 

throughout the British dominions, was at the height 
of his philanthropic career, he left on record words 
worthy to be treasured in every aspiring heart. " I 
thank God," says he, "that I have pursuits in life so 
deeply interesting as they proceed, and so full of prom- 
ise in the magnitude of their results, that they de- 
serve to absorb my whole being. I would not ex- 
change objects in life with any living man." Contrast 
that noble spirit with that of Frederick the Great, 
who, after suffering reverses and disappointments, thus 
revealed the bitterness of his heart, in spite of his 
boasted philosophy: " It is hard for a man to bear 
what I bear. I begin to feel, as the Italians say, that 
revenge is a pleasure for the gods. My philosophy is 
worn out by suffering. I am no saint like those we 
read of in the legends, and I will own that I should 
die content if only I could first inflict a portion of the 
misery which I endure." 

When Handel, the great composer, was thanked by 
an English nobleman for the entertainment he had af- 
forded the people by his new oratorio, " The Messiah," 
he replied, " My lord, I should be sorry if I only en- 
tertained them; I wish to make them better." 

That was a noble declaration which has come down 
to us through the centuries from Alfred the Great: 
" I have striven to live worthily, and left it on record." 

To build a good character requires a spirit of earn- 
estness. Said Dr. Arnold, the celebrated instructor: 
" I feel more and more the need of intercourse with 



BUILDING CHARACTER. 97 

men who take life in earnest. It is painful to me to 
be always on the surface of things. Not that I wish 
for much of what is called religious conversation. 
That is often apt to be on the surface. But I want a 
sign which one catches by a sort of masonry, that a 
man knows what he is about in life. When I find this 
it opens my heart with as fresh a sympathy as when I 
was twenty years younger." 

On this subject Carlyle writes these earnest words: 
" Thy life, wert thou the pitifullest of all the sons of 
earth, is no idle dream, but a solemn reality. It is 
thine own! it is all thou hast to front eternity with. 
Work then like a star, unhasting yet unresting." 

The building of character requires also manly inde- 
pendence; the determination to do right even it be 
unpopular. It requires strength of character to face 
ridicule and contumely, even if bidden by the unre- 
lenting voices of conscience and duty. 

Sidney Smith emphasizes this truth in these. words: 
" I know of no principle which it is of more import- 
ance to fix in the minds of young people, than that of 
the most determined resistance to the encroachments 
of ridicule. If you think it right to differ with the 
times, and to make a stand for any valuable point of 
morals or religion, do it, however rustic, however an- 
tiquated it may appear; do it, not for insolence, but 
seriously and grandly, as a man wears a soul of his 
own in his own, and does not wait until it shall be 
breathed into him by the breath of fashion." 



98 BUILDING CHARACTER. 

Again, to build character requires a teachable spirit, 
one that will bear reproof if in the wrong. A pro- 
found student of human nature observes: "There is 
perhaps no better test of a man's real strength of 
character, than the way in which he bears himself un- 
der just reproof. Every man makes mistakes; every 
man commits faults; but not every man has the 
honesty and meekness to acknowledge his errors and 
to welcome the criticism which points them out to 
him. It is rarely difficult for us to find an excuse for 
our course, if it's an excuse we are looking for. It is, 
in fact, always easier to spring to an angry defense of 
ourselves than to calmly acknowledge the justice of 
another's righteous condemnation of some wrong ac- 
tion of ours; but to refuse to adopt this latter course, 
when we know that we are in the wrong, is to reveal 
to our own better consciousness, and often to the con- 
sciousness of others, an essential defect in our charac- 
ter. He is strong who dares confess that he is 
weak; he is already tottering to a fall who needs 
to bolster up the weakness of his personality by all 
sorts of transparent shams. It is not in vain that 
Scripture says : ' Reprove one that hath understand- 
ing, and he will understand knowledge;' for one of the 
best evidences of the possession of that discreet self- 
judgment which stands at the basis of moral strength, 
and one of the best means of gaining it when it is lack- 
ing, is just this willingness to accept merited reproof, 
and to profit by it when accepted." 



BUILDING CHARACTER. 99 

One of the most brilliant intellects of this century 
has given this masterly exposition of the true strength 
of character: " Strength of character consists of two 
things; power of will and power of self-restraint. It 
requires two things, therefore, for its existence; strong 
feelings and strong command over them. Now, it is 
here we make a great mistake; we mistake strong 
feelings for strong character. A man who bears all 
before him, before whose frown, domestics tremble, 
and whose bursts of fury make the children of the 
household quake, because he has his will obeyed and 
his own way in all things, we call him a strong man. 
The truth is, that is the weak man; it is his passions 
that are strong; he, mastered by them, is weak. You 
must measure the strength of a man by the power of 
the feelings he subdues, not by the power of those which 
subdue him. And hence composure is very often the 
highest result of strength. Did we never see a man 
receive a flagrant insult, and only grow a little pale 
and then reply quietly? That was a man spiritually 
strong. Or did we never see a man in anguish, stand 
as if carved out of solid rock, mastering himself? Or 
one bearing a hopeless daily trial remain silent and 
never tell the world what cankered his home-peace? 
That is strength. He who with strong passions re- 
mains chaste; he who, keenly sensitive, with manly 
power of indignation in him, can be provoked, and yet 
restrain himself and forgive — these are the strong men, 
the spiritual heroes." 



Whaw Reading ^Jill Do. 




O for a Booke and a shadie nooke, 

eyther in-a-door or out; 
With the grene leaves whisp'ring overhede, 

or the Streete .cryes all about. 
Where I maie Reade all at my. ease, 

both of the Newe and Olde ; 
For a jollie goode Booke whereon to looke, 

is better to me than Golde. 

— Old English Song. 



HE habit of reading good books affords one of 
the greatest enjoyments of life. By reading, 
we can transcend time and space, and bring 
before us in review, the peoples and dynasties of the 
misty past. 

We can summon before us their great men, we can 
listen to their words of wisdom, and learn the story of 
the achievements which made them immortal. Says 
an eloquent writer: "Igo into my library, and, like 
some great panorama, all history unrolls before me; I 
breathe the morning air of the world, while the scent 
of Eden's roses lingers in it. I see the pyramids 
building. I hear Memnon murmur as the first morn- 
ing sun touches him. I see the Sphinx when she first 
began to ask her eternal question. I sit as in a thea- 
ter ; the stage is time, the play is the play of the world. 

IOO 



WHAT READING WILL DO. IOI 

What a spectacle it is ! What kingly pomp ! What 
processions pass by! What cities burn to heaven! 
What crowds of captives are dragged at the wheels of 
conquerors ! Across the brawling centuries of blood 
and war that lie between, I can hear the bleating of 
Abraham's sheep, the tinkling of the bells of Rebekah's 
camels. O men and women, so far separated, yet so 
near, so strange, yet so well known, by what miracu- 
lous power do I know you all? What king's court can 
boast such company? What school of philosophy 
such wisdom? All the wit of all the world is glanc- 
ing and floating there. There is Pan's pipe, there are 
the songs of Apollo. Sitting in my library at night, 
and looking in the silent faces of my books, I am oc- 
casionally visited by a strange sense of the super- 
natural. They are not collections of printed pages, 
they are ghosts. I take one down, and it immediately 
speaks with me, — it may be in a tongue not now heard 
on earth, it may be of men and things of which it 
alone possesses knowledge. 

I call myself a solitary, but sometimes I think I mis- 
apply the term. 

No man sees more company than I do. I travel 
with mightier cohorts around me than ever did 
Tamerlane or Genghis-Khan in their fiery marches. 
I am a sovereign in my library, but it is the dead, not 
the living, that attend my levees." 

Said the accomplished Madame de Genlis, one of the 
most brilliant literary celebrities in her day: " How 
I pity those who have no love of reading, of study or 



102 WHAT READING WILL DO. 

of the fine arts. I have passed my youth amidst 
amusements and in the most brilliant society, but yet 
I can assert with perfect truth, that I have never tasted 
pleasures so true as those I have found in the study of 
books, in writing and in music. The days that suc- 
ceed brilliant entertainments are always melancholy; 
but those which follow days of study are delicious: we 
have gained something; we have acquired some knowl- 
edge, and well recall the past days, not with disgust 
and regret, but with consummate satisfaction." 

Rufus Choate, who had an extraordinary attachment 
to books, and almost lived amongst them, once said in 
an address: u Happy is he who laid up in his youth, 
and held steadfast in all fortunes, a genuine and pas- 
sionate love of reading, the true balm of hurt minds, 
of surer and -more healthful charms than poppy or 
mandragora or all the drowsy syrups in the world." 

With books we can, by a single bound, leave the 
cares and anxieties of daily life, and be in the peaceful 
realm of delightful study. 

No matter what may be our condition — without 
wealth, without social standing, with rude surroundings 
and with poverty at the threshold, we can call to us 
the most gifted and illustrious of all ages. At our bid- 
ding Milton will come and sing to us, Shakespeare will 
disclose the world's imagination and the inner work- 
ings of the human heart, Demosthenes, Webster and 
Burke will repeat again the sonorous measures of their 
incomparable eloquence. 

Lord Bacon, one of the intellectual giants of the 



WHAT READING WILL DO. IO3 

world, thus places his estimate on what reading will do : 
" Reading serves for delight, for ornament, and for 
ability. The crafty contemn it; the simple admire it; 
the wise use it. Reading makes a full man; conference, 
a ready man; and writing, an exact man. He that 
writes little, needs a great memory; he that confers 
little, a present wit; and he that reads little, much cun- 
ning to seem to know that which he does not." 

Said that great astronomer, Sir John Herschel: 
" Were I to pray for a taste which should stand me 
in stead under every variety of circumstances, and be 
a source of happiness and cheerfulness to me dur- 
ing life, and a shield against its ills, however things 
might go amiss, and the world frown upon me, 
it would be a taste for reading. Give a man this 
taste, and the means of gratifying it, and you can 
hardly fail of making him a happy man; unless, indeed, 
you put into his hands a most perverse selection of 
books. You place him in contact with the best society 
in every period of history — with the wisest, the 
wittiest, the tenderest, the bravest and the purest 
characters who have adorned humanity. You make 
him a denizen of all nations, a contemporary of all ages. 
The world has been created for him!" Goldsmith 
said: " The first time I read an excellent book, it is 
just to me as if I had gained a new friend. When I 
read over a book I have perused before, it resembles 
the meeting with an old one." 

But reading can not only bring to us the best company, 



104 WHAT READING WILL DO. 

but it can fill us with great thoughts ; it can inspire us 
with noble aspirations, and it can give a bent to the mind 
which will mould the whole life and exert an influence on 
us forever. Many a career has been shaped by reading. 
When Benjamin Franklin was a boy, part of a little 
book called " Essays to do Good," by Cotton Mather, 
fell into his hands, and he says: " It gave me such a 
turn of thinking as to have an influence on my conduct 
through life, for I have always set a greater value on 
the character of a doer of good, than any other kind 
of reputation; and if I have been a useful citizen, the 
public owes all the advantages of it to that little book." 
William Chambers, one of the famous publishers of 
Edinburgh, who did so much to bring literature within 
the reach of the people, and brought to himself a repu- 
tation by doing so, attributed a great measure of his 
success to his love for, and study of, good books, in his 
early life. He said in a public address: " I stand be- 
fore you a self-educated man. My education was that 
which is supplied by the humble parish schools of 
Scotland, and it was only when I went to Edinburgh, 
a poor boy, that I devoted my evenings, after the labors 
of the day, to the cultivation of that intellect that the 
Almighty has given me. From seven to ten in the morn- 
ing to nine or ten at night, I was at my business 
as a bookseller's apprentice, and it was only in hours 
after these that I could devote myself to study. I as- 
sure you I did not read novels; my attention was de- 
voted to physical science." 



WHAT READING WILL DO. 105 

The young aspirations of John Wesley were directed 
by reading Thomas a Kempis' " Imitation of Christ." 

Jeremy Bentham mentions that the current of his 
thoughts and studies on political economy was directed 
through life by a single phrase that caught his eye at 
the end of a pamphlet: " The greatest good of the 
greatest number." 

On the other hand, the influence of bad books has 
swept countless numbers to destruction. From be- 
hind prison bars, and from the gallows, have come in- 
numerable confessions that pernicious books were the 
causes which led to an evil and abandoned life. 

An officer of the British government, who made the 
matter a study, declares that nearly all the boys 
brought before criminal courts, may largely ascribe 
their downfall to impure reading. And even when the 
morals remain uncontaminated, how reading can per- 
vert the judgment and instill poisonous sentiments 
which will darken the life and destroy one's usefulness 
ever after. 

It is said that Voltaire, when young, committed an 
infidel poem to memory, and the sentiment colored his 
whole after life. 

David Hume, when a boy, was a believer in the 
Scriptures, but in studying the works of infidels to 
prepare for a debate, the seeds of doubt were sown 
which ripened into avowed infidelity. 

William Wilberforce, the noble philanthropist and 
statesman, when young had the curiosity to read an 



106 WHAT READING WILL DO. 

infidel book, and when he had partly read it, he cast it 
away, in terror of its insidious influence, for he noticed 
that although he detected its sophistries, his mind was 
entangled and hurt. 

But if we confine our choice to good books, a love of 
reading will yield us the most unalloyed .pleasure. 

Said Milton: "A good book is the precious life 
blood of a master spirit embalmed and treasured up to 
a life beyond life, 1 ' and Martain Farquhar Tupper has 
somewhere said: U A good book is the best of 
friends — the same to-day and forever." Friends may 
fail us, prosperity may vanish, care and trouble may 
come like an overwhelming flood, — age may advance 
and we be left in solitude, but the pleasure derived 
from books will survive all, and prove a most welcome 
and ready consolation. Washington Irving has writ- 
ten: " When all that is worldly turns to dross around 
us, books only retain their steady value. When 
friends grow cold, and the converse of intimates lan- 
guishes into vapid civility and commonplace, these only 
continue the unaltered countenance of better days, and 
cheer us with that true friendship which never de- 
ceived hope, nor deserted sorrow." Reading can thus 
shape a career, adorn a life, and assuage care and 
grief. It can take the place of friends and society, and 
lead us to the companionship of the good and great of 
all ages. Cultivate, then, this great gift, carefulfy, 
wisely and systematically, and it will yield you a rich 
harvest of invaluable instruction and abiding pleasure. 



05HAJP TO F^EAD. 




The true university of these days is a collection of books. 

— Carlyle. 



m 
OME one has said, " The art of reading is to 

^h skip judiciously."" The number of books is 
^i^/ K legion, and even a whole life-time would be 
too short to master more than a small proportion of 
them. When we consider that most persons can de- 
vote only the moments of leisure, or the scraps of time 
snatched from sleep or from their daily toil, how im- 
portant it is that the few books which can be read, 
should be of sterling worth, and should contain food 
for thought which will stimulate the mind and enrich 
the character." The words of that eminent man, Sir 
William Hamilton, cannot be too well considered: 
" Read much, but not many works. For what pur- 
pose, with what intent do we read? We read not for 
the sake of reading, but we read to the end that we 
may think. Reading is valuable only as it may sup- 
ply the materials which the mind itself elaborates. As 
it is not the largest quantify of any kind of food taken 
into the stomach that conduces to health, but such a 

quantity of such a kind as can be best digested ; so it 

107 



I08 WHAT TO READ. 

is not the greatest complement of any kind of informa- 
tion that improves the mind, but such a quantity of 
such a kind as determines the intellect to most visror- 
ous energy. The only profitable kind of reading is 
that in which we are compelled to think, and think in- 
tensely; whereas, that reading which serves only to 
dissipate and divert our thoughts is either positively 
hurtful, or useful only as an occasional relaxation from 
severe exertion. But the amount of vigorous thinking 
is usually in the inverse ratio to multifarious reading. 11 
Prof. Blackie, of Edinburgh University, gives most 
excellent advice on this subject: " Keep in mind, 1 ' he 
says, " that though the library shelves groan with 
books, whose name is legion, there are in each depart- 
ment only a few great books, in relation to which 
others are but auxiliary, or it may be sometimes para- 
sitical, and, like the ivy, doing harm rather than good 
to the pole round which they cling. Stick, therefore, 
to the great books, the original books, the fountain 
heads of great ideas and noble passions, and you will 
learn joyfully to dispense with the volumes of accessory 
talk by which their virtue has been as frequently ob- 
scured as illuminated. 11 

A wise man adds: " It would have been better, in 
my opinion, for the world and for science, if, instead 
of the multitude of books which now overlay us, we 
possessed but a few works, good and sterling, and 
which, as few, would be therefore more diligently and 
profoundly studied. 11 



WHAT TO READ. IO9 

Bulwer, who had a great knowledge of books, gives 
this suggestion: " In science, read, by preference, the 
newest works; in literature, the oldest. The classic 
literature is always modern. New books revive and 
re-decorate old ideas; old books suggest and invigor- 
ate new ideas." 

And yet it must be borne in mind that while the ad- 
vice of these great men is eminently sound, and cannot 
be too closely followed by mature readers, yet it is 
necessary with many young people to first awaken a 
taste and love for reading in order to cultivate the 
habit. With such it is necessary often to begin with 
popular tales and works of fiction, but these can be 
selected so as to awaken an appetite for more substan- 
tial works. Much of the best literary talent of the age 
has been engaged in popularizing and presenting, in a 
fascinating style, history, science, incidents of travel, 
and the lives of great men, bringing all within the 
grasp of the child's mind, and making these subjects as 
interesting as the fairy tales of the old story books. 
With such books a love of reading can be created, and 
they will prove a pleasing introduction to the study of 
the great master-pieces in literature. 

But, perhaps, the greatest danger to be avoided in 
the selection of books, is the undue importance given 
to works of fiction. Novels, like an army of locusts, 
penetrate everywhere, and with thousands they dis- 
place entirely the study of all higher forms of litera- 
ture. As they are often written to sell, without any 



IIO WHAT TO READ. 

moral object in view, they pander to unworthy tastes 
and base passions, and have a corrupting influence 
wherever they go. 

A gifted divine, in speaking of novels, said: " The 
ten plagues have visited our literature ; water is turned 
into blood; frogs and lice creep and hop over our 
most familiar things, — the couch, the cradle and the 
bread-trough; locusts, murrain and fire are smiting 
every green thing. I am ashamed and outraged when 
I think that wretches could be found to open these 
foreign seals, and let out their plagues upon us; that 
any satanic pilgrim should voyage to France to dip 
from the Dead Sea of her abominations a baptism for 
our sons." 

Goldsmith, himself a novel-writer, said: " Above 
all, never let your son touch a novel or romance. How 
delusive, how destructive, are these pictures of con- 
summate bliss ! They teach the youthful mind to sigh 
after beauty and happiness that never existed, to des- 
pise the little good that Fortune has mixed in our cup, 
by expecting more than she ever gave." 

George Augustus Sala has thus depicted the evils of 
novel reading on girls, and the effect on boys is equally 
pernicious: " Girls learn from such books to think 
boldly and coarsely about lovers and marrying; their 
early modesty is effaced by the craving for admiration; 
their warm affections are silenced by the desire for 
selfish triumphs; they lose the fresh and honest feel- 
ings of youth while they are yet scarcely developed; 



WHAT TO READ. Ill 

they pass with sad rapidity from their early visions 
of Tancred and Orlando to notions of good connections, 
establishments, excellent matches, etc., and yet they 
think, and their mammas think, that they are only ad- 
vancing in l prudence ' and knowledge of the world — 
that bad, contaminating knowledge of the world 
which I sometimes imagine must have been the very 
apple that Eve plucked from the forbidden tree. Alas, 
when once tasted, the garden of life is an innocent and 
happy Paradise no more." 

If a person is fed on sweetmeats and highly seasoned 
food he soon loses his appetite for plain wholesome 
diet; and so with the mind. When the imagination is 
excited by highly colored pictures of wonderful char- 
acters, and marvelous combinations of circumstances, 
the mind rejects the plain and wholesome nutri- 
ment of solid reading. Dr. Francis Wayland, the 
eminent professor on moral philosophy, relates of him- 
self how, when about eighteen years of age, his taste 
for reading was completely changed. Before that 
time he had devoured novels, stories, travels and ad- 
ventures, and wondered how people could take so 
much pleasure in didactic essays and become so much 
charmed with what they called " the beauty of the 
style." One day he happened to take up a volume of 
the " Spectator" and read one of Addison's papers on 
Milton. He enjoyed it, and found he understood it 
perfectly. He turned to other papers of like charac- 
acter, and from that time enjoyed solid and instructive 



112 WHAT TO READ. 

books, lost his relish for novels, in which he had de- 
lighted before, and scarcely read one afterwards. 

As we unconsciously become like the company we 
associate with, so we grow like the books we 
read. Bishop Potter said: "It is nearly an axiom 
that people will not be better than the books they 
read," and we safely judge of a person's tastes and 
character by inspecting his library. An old writer 
applies this wise rule to the worth of books: " Where 
a book raises your spirit and inspires you with noble 
and courageous feelings, seek for no other rule to 
judge the event by; it is good, and made by a good 
workman." How important, then, that our selections 
be carefully made. " Knowledge of books in a man 
of business," said Addison, " is a torch in the hands 
of one who is willing and able to show those who are 
bewildered, the way which leads to prosperity and 
welfare." 

A successful business man who had risen to con- 
siderable distinction, in addressing the young men in 
the retail dry goods trade in Boston, gave them this 
excellent advice: " I advise you to read the best 
literature and commit to memory and treasure up its 
choicest passages. Daniel Webster said that he ac- 
quired the power of expressing his ideas in the fewest 
words by reading the Bible. With your other read- 
ing, peruse this book, not only for its literary value, 
but because it teaches men the best and surest road to 
business success, and also the way of eternal life." 



WHAT TO READ. 1 13 

Sir William Jones, who had a knowledge of twenty- 
eight different languages, and was one of the greatest 
scholars of any age or country, thus spoke of the 
Bible: "I have carefully and regularly perused the 
Scriptures, and am of opinion that this volume, in- 
dependent of its divine origin, contains more sublimity, 
purer morality, more important history, and finer 
strains of eloquence than can be obtained from all 
other books, in whatever language written."" Read 
the standard English poets, and if you can appreciate 
them they will yield you infinite delight. Poetry re- 
fines the mind, cultivates the imagination, purifies 
the affections, exalts the character, improves the 
language, and enriches us with the most exquisite 
illustrations and imagery, and the noblest conceptions 
of human reason and fancy. A college professor re- 
marked, that " no young man or woman was fit for 
life until familiar with Emerson's essays on l Behavior 
and Social Aims.'" There is something intensely 
stimulating and helpful in reading well written biog- 
raphies of great and useful men, and many a noble 
life has been shaped in this manner. Read the ac- 
knowledged masters of thought in their respective 
fields of inquiry, and soon your mind will be so strong 
and active that it will require strong food, and will be 
sickened at the worthless trash with which the land is 
flooded. To a person who would be well-informed, it 
has become a necessity to be somewhat familiar with 
the current events of the day, and for this, too much 



114 WHAT TO READ. 

can hardly be said in favor of a good weekly religious 
newspaper in the home. Most of these, to their credit 
be it said, are edited by able, conscientious and pro- 
gressive men, who bring to them the choicest fruits of 
their varied learning, sound wisdom, and high moral 
principle. 

The chief events transpiring in the world are pre- 
sented briefly, well-considered articles appear on the 
vital questions of the day, careful reviews of new 
books are given to guide the reader to the best read- 
ing, and choice selections from the best literature are 
made with fine discrimination. 

The influence for good which such a periodical 
exerts upon family life and individual character cannot 
be overestimated. It is one of the choicest products 
of our modern civilization , and is doing noble work in 
its mission to elevate and improve mankind, both in 
respect to intellectual quickening, and the develop- 
ment of moral and religious principle. 




I?ow mo I^EAD. 




:HERE are thousands of people who read in 
quantity, an amount of matter which is simply 
appalling, but add little to their stock of gen- 
eral knowledge, and nothing to their strength 
and discipline of mind. A man might as well be 
expected to grow stronger by always eating, as by 
always reading. When one reads merely to pass time, 
to be amused, or for the purpose of passively exciting 
the emotions, the mind becomes like a sieve, — whatever 
is put in, speedily passes through, and hardly a trace 
remains. A succession of characters and incidents flit 
before the mind; are perceived for a moment, and then 
pass away, never more to return. How many omniv- 
orous readers, in a year after reading a book, not only 
fail to remember the barest outline of its contents, but 
even its title; and many would not be quite sure 
whether they had read it at all. Such reading is a 
positive injury to the mind, for it so fritters away its 
energies, that it becomes incapable of concentrating its 
powers for any length of time upon any subject that 
requires close attention and sound thinking. It is only 
what we remember and assimilate, so that it becomes 
a part of us, that is of real value. One great fault 

"5 



Il6 HOW TO READ. 

in reading is, that we read too hastily, and so the 
memory is overtaxed, until it loses its power. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, whose transcend- 
ent genius entitled her to be ranked as one of the most 
gifted and brilliant women of any age or country, thus 
wrote in a letter to a friend: "We generally err by 
reading too much, and out of proportion to what we 
think, I should be wiser, I am persuaded, if I had not 
read half as much, — should have had stronger and 
better exercised faculties, and should stand higher in 
my own appreciation. The fact is, that the ne plus 
ultra of intellectual indolence, is this reading of books." 
F. W. Robertson, the English divine, who had one of the 
brightest intellects and most finely disciplined minds of 
his age, said in regard to the manner in which he read, 
"I know what reading is; for I could read once, and 
did. I read hard, or not at all; never skimming, never 
turning aside to merely inviting books; and Plato, 
Aristotle, Butler, Thucydides, Sterne, Jonathan Ed 
wards, have passed, like the iron atoms of the blood, 
into my mental constitution." He said that it would 
take him six months to read a small octavo on chemis- 
try, and doubtless the discipline which came from this 
way of reading, was one of the secrets of his wonderful 
intellectual power. It is said that Miss Martineau read 
only a page in an hour. Edmund Burke always so read 
a book as to make it his own, — a possession for life. 

One of the greatest modern jurists was asked how 
he acquired so profound and comprehensive a knowl- 



HOW TO READ. 11/ 

edge of the law. He replied, that when he began to 
study, he made it a rule to read but little, but to 
understand thoroughly everything he passed over, and 
never to leave a subject or a point until he had com- 
pletely mastered it. 

Another indispensable condition of profitable reading, 
is to read systematically. Rufus Choate said that, 
desultory reading was a waste of life. In reading, as 
in everything else, nothing can be accomplished to 
much purpose without system. To read volumes here 
and there, on every conceivable subject, without order 
or discrimination, is only to accumulate in the mind a 
blurred, undistinguishable mass of half-digested mate- 
rial, too ill-assorted and indefinite for use. It is well to 
make an outline of the course of reading you wish to 
pursue; by a little inquiry and care you can easily 
ascertain the best works on each particular subject; 
select such of these as time and convenience will 
allow, and while the subject is in hand follow it, trace 
it out, examine it consecutively from beginning to end, 
and your mind will then have a clear and comprehensive 
mastery of it. It is an excellent exercise, after reading 
a chapter, to close the book and state, in your own 
language, its contents, and thus fix it in the memory. 
If you can not recall the subject matter, read the 
second or the third time, for reading is of little benefit if 
you cannot remember the main points and incidents 
given by the author. After reading in this way it is 
advisable to write out a general outline of the book, 



Il8 HOW TO READ. 

and thus review again its contents, and also state your 
impressions of the author, the manner in which he has 
treated his subject, and any well-considered criticism that 
may occur to you. Another great objection to hasty and 
rapid reading, is, that it wearies the power of attention. 

Do not read after the mind is jaded and wandering, 
but while the faculties are fresh enough to do their 
work, without any sense of weariness or discomfort. 
Half reading, when the body and mind are in a stupefied 
condition, leads to an indolent, listless habit of inattention, 
and vacuity of thought. Read with a dictionary at hand, 
and do not pass a word or an expression until you under- 
stand its meaning. In this way you will enlarge your 
own stock of words, as well as get a clear knowledge 
of what the author means. It is well to understand 
the aim of the author before beginning a book, by 
reading the preface and table of contents, and also by 
having some general knowledge as to the character of 
the author and his book. In this way you will know 
what to expect, and can form a more accurate judg- 
ment as to the merits of the work. 

In buying books, it is best to buy those that you wish 
to read at once, — a single book or work at a time; and 
as you will choose those first which you most desire to 
read, you will read with greater interest and profit. 
A library made up in this manner, becomes like a col- 
lection of old friends, for it consists of only invited 
guests. It is well to mark the choicest passages in the 
book by some simple system which any one can easily 



HOW TO READ. I 1 9 

invent, and thus indicate your admiration, assent, 
doubt, or inquiry, and also to make brief notes of any 
points that may occur to you. In this way you can 
readily refer to any particular passage, and see what 
was the impression made at the time it was read. 

To own a library bearing in this manner the evi- 
dences of one's own thought and reflection, affords the 
most exquisite pleasure, and will lead to a more ardent 
attachment for books than ever. 

Always read, if possible, something you are inter- 
ested in, so that you will have the stimulant and zest 
of an awakened curiosity to spur your mind, and to 
engage your attention. Sometimes this choice is not 
practicable, for our duty or business may compel us 
to read that which relates only to it. 

If this be so, exercise the will, and hold the mind to 
its work, and after a time you shall discover, in the 
barest and most unattractive subject, charms which 
you never imagined it possessed. 

If these brief suggestions are followed, and they are 
entirely practicable for every reader, reading will 
become such a discipline that it will not only enrich 
the memory with vast treasures of knowledge and 
information, but will discipline and strengthen the 
mind in the most admirable manner. The number of 
books read may not be so great as by an indiscrimin- 
ate selection and merely skimming over the surface, 
but the general result will be immeasurably more 
satisfactory. 



©HE ©EI^IIiS OF SCEPTICISM, 




HERE are few persons who have not, at 
some period of their lives, had doubts in 
regard to the essential doctrines of the Chris- 
tian faith. Even eminent divines have 
had their faith obscured at times by clouds of dark- 
ness and distrust. But there is a difference between 
the honest doubts of the questioning mind, which 
earnestly desires to find the truth, as it grapples with 
the great problems and mysteries of our existence here 
and hereafter, and the shallow conceit which prides 
itself in its doubts as the sign of advanced thought or 
intellectual freedom, and thus cherishes them, without 
trying to satisfy them by rational investigation. The 
honest doubts of the earnest inquirer, when exposed to 
the light of truth as revealed in the Bible, are dissi- 
pated like mists before the morning sun. 

Dr. Nelson, in his work on " Infidelity," says that 
for many years he had endeavored to persuade every 
infidel to read some work on the evidences of Chris- 
tianity, and he never knew but two instances fail of 
conviction, and in these he did not know the result, for 
want of opportunity. 

James B. Walker, a brilliant but skeptical young 
lawyer, once formed a plan to carefully and system- 



12 O 



THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 121 

atically study the Scriptures, with a view to rinding 
out its inconsistencies and fortifying his infidel opinions, 
but, as he studied, the grand design of an overruling 
Being to reach, lift up and save a degraded race, 
opened before him, his doubts were removed, and the 
result of his study was a book called, " The Philosophy 
of the Plan of Salvation," one of the most powerful 
and rational volumes written in this century, in defense 
of the Christian religion. The way to settle doubts is, 
not to seek for more doubts, but to say, like Goethe, 
" If you have any truth, let me have it; I have doubts 
enough of my own." Talk candidly with people 
who know more than you do, and read carefully the 
works of Christian scholars who have given these mat- 
ters careful study. 

A popular writer has thus touchingly related the 
struggles of a questioning mind, groping in the dark 
and seeking for light : 

" Some years ago a young French nobleman, a 
friend of the Emperor Napoleon III., became affected 
by that mild form of insanity known as ' melancholy.' 
No one, not even the medical experts, could find out 
what ailed him, though the inference seemed to be 
that he was troubled by some mental burden which he 
would not confess. 

" He was rational, with the sole exception of this 
unhealthy, brooding habit of mind; but this alone was 
sufficient to make him strange, and isolate him from 
all interest in passing things. His relatives grew more 



122 THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 

and more concerned about him, and finally, despairing 
of his cure at home, they procured letters from the 
Emperor, and sent him over to London, to the care of 
the famous physician, Dr. Forbes Winslow. 

" The great doctor soon divined his patient's case, 
and managed his examination with such tact and gen- 
tleness that he succeeded in getting at his secret. 

" 'You are right, doctor,' said the young man, as if 
the confession cost him a strong effort. ' It is religious 
anxiety that troubles me. I was educated in infidelity. 
My father and grandfather before me were infidels. 
But for the last three years these words have haunted 
me day and night, Eternity! and where shall I spend 
it? They follow me like a horrible spell. I cannot 
shake it off. What shall I do?' 

" There was a moment's pause, and then Dr. Wins- 
low said, solemnly, ' Sir, you have come to the wrong 
physician, /cannot help you.' 

" The young man sprang to his feet. c Doctor, do 
you mean to tell me there is no hope?' he said. 'Is 
there no release from this terrible thought that chases 
me? When I wake, and when I sleep, I hear the 
voice, Eternity, eternity! Where shall I spend it? 
And you tell me you can give me no help!' 

" ' Calm yourself,' replied the good physician, for he 
had not yet said his final word. ' For many years,' 
he continued, ' I was an infidel myself, but I am a 
happier man now. My cure was faith in Jesus of 
Nazareth, the Son of God.' 



THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 1 23 

(l The young nobleman looked earnestly in the doc- 
tor's eyes. ' Do you believe, then, in Jesus Christ, and 
that he can help my case?' 

u ' I do believe,' said Dr. Winslow. 'It was He who 
brought me out of trouble such as yours; and now I 
am well assured where I shall spend my eternity. He 
is the physician you want.' 

a The doctor then read the fifty-third chapter of 
Isaiah, — c He was wounded for our transgressions, He 
was bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement of 
our peace was upon him, and by His stripes we are 
healed,' and afterwards he knelt with his patient and 
prayed. 

" The young nobleman's confidence in his adviser 
had made him teachable; prayer softened his heart 
and brought him light, and faith in Christ lifted him 
into the peace of God. ,: 

Do not make the mistake of supposing that it is 
necessary that you should fully comprehend all truth. 
The outer world about us is full of mysteries which 
we cannot explain, but which we accept and believe. 
The wisest men cannot grasp or understand them any 
more than the little child. In the great realm of 
human knowledge, — in science, law, medicine and art, — 
the most skillful experts in each have different opinions, 
and cannot see alike; and so, in considering the great 
themes of Christian truth, we cannot be expected to 
view them from the same standpoint. The mountain 
ot truth remains the same, although we may see its 



124 THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 

outline from different perspectives. Remember, that 
doubts prove nothing. If they undermine and take 
away your faith they give you nothing in return. They 
may so pervert and warp your judgment as to turn you 
aside from the absolute certainties of truth, and leave 
you helplessly to grope about among blind uncertain- 
ties. Rev. J. J. Munger finely illustrates this by this 
reference to the infidel author of that collection of 
shallow superficialities, long ago exploded, called 
"The Mistakes of Moses. 77 He says: "Does the 
author of that book know what the Jewish system 
means, when you get down to the soul of it ? Does he 
tell you that its key-note is mercy, and that its method 
and aim are simply those of deliverance and freedom 
from the actual ills of life? Does he tell you that it is 
a system shot through and through with great redeem- 
ing and liberating forces? Does he tell you that it 
takes a nation of slaves, — ignorant, barbaric, besotted 
in mind and degenerate in body, — and by a shrewdly 
adapted system of laws, lifts it steadily and persistently, 
and bears it on to ever bettering conditions, and always 
toward freedom? Does he tell you that from first to 
last, from center to circumference, it was a system of 
deliverance from bondage, from disease, from igno- 
rance, from anarchy, from superstition, from degrading 
customs, from despotism, from barbarism, from 
Oriental vices and philosophies, from injustice and op- 
pression, from individual and national sin and fault? 
Does he tell you that then the nation was organized in 



THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 125 

the interest of freedom, planned to rescue it by a 
gradually unfolding system of laws, educational in 
their spirit, and capable of wide expansion in right 
directions ? Nothing of this he sees, but only some in- 
congruities in numbers and a cosmogony apparently 
not scientific." 

The author of that production, when asked whether he 
believed in a hereafter, replied, " I do not know. I 
am aboard of a great ship. I do not know what 
port she left, nor whither she is bound. She may go 
down with all on board, or she may reach some sunny 
port. I do not know. It is no more strange that men 
should live again than that they have lived." When 
Gibbon, the eminent historian, was asked, when dying, 
" How does the world appear to you now?" he closed 
his eyes a moment, then opened them, and with a deep 
sigh, replied: " All things are fleeting. When I look 
back, I see they have been fleeting; when I look for- 
ward, all is dark and doubtful." Such are the consola- 
tions of skepticism, — they afford nothing but dark and 
gloomy forebodings for the future. How different 
this from the trumpet-toned assurance of the martyred 
Paul as he stood in the presence of a violent death: 
"I have fought the good fight; I have finished the 
course; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of 
righteousness." Since then millions have died with 
this same hope in their hearts, and have passed 
triumphantly to the same reward. 

Depend upon it, many so-called skeptics are not sin- 



126 THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 

cere in their unbelief. They desire to believe certain 
things, and so, after a time, almost persuade themselves 
that they do believe them. It is related of King 
George of England that he was accustomed to describe 
the part he had taken in the battle of Waterloo, and 
after a time came to believe that he was actually 
there. Once he was recounting his thrilling exploits 
to a company, in the presence of Wellington, the hero 
of the conflict. " Is that not true, Arthur?" the King 
said, turning to the Duke at the end of his story. 
Said Wellington: " It is as true, your majesty, as any 
of the narratives you have favored us with." The 
infidel would have neither a God nor a judgment, and 
this desire finally grows into a sort of belief. But 
there are moments when he doubts his skepticism, and 
when the truth flashes upon his mind. One of them 
said to a friend: " There is one thing that mars all the 
pleasures of my life.' 7 " Indeed," replied his friend; 
" what is that?" He answered: "/ am afraid the 
Bible is true. If I could know for certain that death 
is an eternal sleep , I should be happy; my joy would 
be complete! But here is the thorn that stings me. 
This is the sword that pierces my very soul, — if the 
Bible is true } I am lost for every 

Listen to the confession of Hume: u I seem/ 1 he 
says, " affrighted and confounded with the solitude in 
which I am placed by my philosophy. When I look 
abroad, on every side I see dispute, contradiction and 
distraction. When I turn my eye inward, I find noth- 



THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 12J 

ing but doubt and ignorance. Where am I? or what 
am I? From what cause do I derive my existence? 
To what condition shall I return? I am confounded 
with questions. I begin to fancy myself in a very de- 
plorable condition, environed with darkness on every 
side." 

A most striking incident has been thus narrated, that 
shows to what baseness and insincerity infidelity can 
subject the mind. A speaker once addressed an audi- 
ence with great vehemence, denying God and im- 
mortality, and uttering the most fearful blasphemies. 
When he had done, a man arose and said: "I 
shall not attempt to confute the arguments of the 
orator, nor criticise his style, but will relate a fact, and 
you can draw your own conclusions. Yesterday/ 1 he 
said, " I saw a young man on yonder river, in a boat 
which was unmanageable, and nearing the rapids. He 
had given up all hope of saving his life, and was 
wringing his hands in agony. By and by he knelt 
down and said, with desperate earnestness : ' O God, 
save my soul. If my body cannot be saved, save my 
soul.' I heard him confess that he had been a blas- 
phemer, and heard him vow that if his life was spared 
he would never be such again. I heard him implore 
the mercy of heaven, for Jesus Christ's sake, and earn- 
estly plead that he might be washed in His blood. I 
plunged in, brought the boat to shore and saved his 
life. That same young man has just addressed you, 
and cursed his Maker. What say you to this, sirs?" 



128 THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 

A shudder ran through the young man himself, as well 
as the audience, as they were confronted with such ap- 
palling insincerity and baseness of conduct. 

The poet Shelley, although a great genius, was a 
bitter skeptic. On one occasion, while making a short 
sea voyage with Byron and others, during their resi- 
dence in Italy, a tempest arose, and they expected 
every moment to be launched into eternity. Shelley 
went down below, and fervently prayed for deliverance. 
Unexpectedly they were saved, and soon after Shelley 
was the same bold blasphemer as before. This was 
his last warning, for he soon met a watery grave, and 
his life was quenched in darkness. 

There is undoubted proof that the infidel writer, 
Thomas Paine, when on his dying bed, expressed the 
deepest regret that he had written the " Age of Rea- 
son," and also declared that if his life was spared he 
would write another book to refute its errors and 
sophistries. 

What has skepticism done for mankind, except to 
take away faith, hope and comfort? Ask what has 
Christianity done, and the answer is, a history of mod- 
ern civilization. A great educator has said: " Faith 
in God has been the corner-stone of all that is noble in 
human history, or valuable in human achievements." 
What vital force was it that could transform degraded 
and cannibal races like those of the Sandwich and Fiji 
Islands, into orderly and intelligent peoples, with their 
schools and churches, music and literature, until to-day 



THE PERILS OF SKEPTICISM. 129 

there is a larger proportion of church attendants 
among the native population, than even in older Chris- 
tain communities? What power is it, which estab- 
lishes, endows and carries on schools, colleges, hos- 
pitals, asylums, reformatories, and all the grand sys- 
tems of instruction and charity, which, in a thousand 
different forms, meet the needs of our poor, weak hu- 
manity. Strike out Christianity from the world, and 
you strike out the light and glory of our modern civil- 
ization. Was it a chimera and delusion that could 
inspire with faith and hope such men as Milton, Locke, 
Bacon, Newton, Cromwell, Washington, Webster, 
Lincoln, and an innumerable galaxy of the greatest 
minds that earth has produced ? These are among the 
mightiest intellects and geniuses of earth, and, depend 
upon it, they did not cherish a belief unless it had a 
stable foundation. Depend upon it, the evidences 
which were sufficient to satisfy the questioning of these 
master minds, will be sound enough to answer and 
satisfy all your doubts. 




(She Study of the Bible. 




)NE of the most beautiful tributes to the 
worth of the Bible has been given by the 
r&ffidn gifted Theodore Parker, in these words: 
<c This collection of books has taken such a 
hold on the world as no other. It is read of a Sab- 
bath in all the ten thousand pulpits of our land; the sun 
never sets on its gleaming pages. It goes equally to 
the cottage of the plain man and the palace of the 
king. It is woven into the literature of the scholar, 
and colors the talk of the street. The barque of the 
merchant cannot sail the sea without it. No ships of 
war go to the conflict but the Bible is there. It enters 
men's closets, mingles in all the griefs and cheerfulness 
of life. The affianced maiden prays God in Scripture 
for strength in her home duties ; men are married by 
Scripture; the Bible attends them in their sickness — 
when the fever of the world is upon them, the aching 
head finds a softer pillow when the Bible lies under- 
neath. The mariner, escaping from shipwreck, es- 
teems it the first of his treasures, and keeps it sacred 
to God. It goes with the peddler in his crowded pack, 
cheers him at eventide when he sits down, dusty and 

fatigued, and brightens the freshness of his morning 

1^0 



THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. I3I 

face. It blesses us when we are born, gives names to 
half of Christendom, rejoices with us, has sympathy 
for our mourning, tempers our grief to finer issues. 
It is the better part of our sermons; it lifts man above 
himself, — our best of natural prayers are in its stoned 
speech, wherewith our fathers and the patriarchs 
prayed. The timid man about awaking from this 
dream of life, looks through the glass of Scripture, and 
his eye grows bright; he does not fear to stand alone, 
to tread the way unknown and distant, to take the 
Death Angel by the hand and bid farewell to wife, 
and babes, and home! Men rest on this their dearest 
hopes. It tells them of God and of his blessed Son; 
of earthly duties and of Heavenly trust!" 

Let us turn from this acute thinker and eloquent 
divine, to listen to one who was brought up in another 
faith, and whose training and associations were entirely 
dissimilar. A learned Brahmin, of India, before a 
large audience, voluntarily made this striking acknowl- 
edgment of its power and influence: "The Bible! — 
there is nothing to compare with it, in all our sacred 
books, for goodness, and purity, and holiness, and love, 
and for motives of action. Where did the English- 
speaking people get all their intelligence, and energy, 
and cleverness, and power? It is their Bible that gives 
these things to them ; and now they bring it to us, and 
say: ' This is what raised us, take it and raise your- 
selves.' They do not force it upon us, as the Moham- 
medans used to force their Koran ; but they bring it in 



132 THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 

love, and translate it into our languages, and lay it 
before us and say, ' Look at it, read it, examine it, and 
see if it is not good.' Of one thing I am convinced — 
do what we will, oppose it as we may, it is the Chris- 
tian's Bible that will sooner or later work the regener- 
ation of this land." 

The eloquent Gilfillian, of Scotland, one of the most 
brilliant of critics, said of the Bible: " It has been sub- 
jected, along with many other books, to the fire of the 
keenest investigation; a fire which has contemptuously 
burned up the cosmogony of the Shasta, the absurd 
fables of the Koran, nay, the husbandry of the Georgics, 
the historical truth of Livy, the artistic merit of many 
a popular poem, the authority of many a book of 
philosophy and science. And yet this artless, loosely- 
piled book lies unhurt, untouched, with not one page 
singed, and not even the smell of fire has passed 
upon it." 

Salmon P. Chase, the noted statesman and jurist, 
who died holding the office of Chief Justice of the Su- 
preme Court of the United States, expressed himself a 
few days before his death, to one of his associate judges, 
as a firm believer in the inspiration of the Bible, and 
the plan of salvation as taught by the Savior. He said 
that early in his manhood, he had brought to the ex- 
amination of the Scriptures all the powers of his mind, 
and carefully read all the leading arguments for and 
against the truth of those Scriptures; that he had 
deliberately made up his mind that the Bible was the 



THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 1 33 

word ot God, a divine revelation to man, and he had 
never in a long life wavered in his belief. He treated 
the subject as he would a question of law, and having 
carefully and duly examined the subject, and settled it 
in his own mind, it became to him as an axiom not to 
be disputed or departed from. 

Lieut. M. F. Maury, one of the ablest scientists of 
this country, said: 

'• I have been blamed by men of science, both in 
America and in England, for quoting the Bible in con- 
firmation of the doctrines of physical geography. The 
Bible, they say, was not written for scientific purposes, 
and is therefore of no authority. I beg pardon; the 
Bible is authority for everything it touches. What 
would you think of the historian who should refuse to 
consult the historical records of the Bible because the 
Bible was not written for history? The Bible is true, 
and science is true; and when your man of science, 
with vain and hasty conceit, announces the discovery 
of a disagreement between them, rely upon it the fault 
is not with the witness, or his records, but with the 
' worm ' who essays to interpret evidence which he 
does not understand. When I, a pioneer in one de- 
partment of this beautiful science, discover the truths 
of revelation and the truths of science reflecting light 
one upon the other, and each sustaining the other, how 
can I, as a truth-loving, knowledge-seeking man, fail to 
point out the beauty, and rejoice in the discovery? 
And were I to suppress the emotions with which such 



134 THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 

discoveries ought to stir the soul, the waves would lift 
up their voice, and the very stones of the earth would 
cry out against me.'' 

It is said that an English barrister, who was accus- 
tomed to train students for the practice of the law, and 
who was not himself a religious man, was once asked 
why he put students, from the very first, to the study 
and analysis of the most difficult parts of the sacred 
Scriptures, said, u Because there is nothing else like it 
in any language, for the development of mind and 
character." 

Richard Grant White, the brilliant essayist, left this 
testimony to the influence of the Bible on his life: " I 
had been brought up on the Bible, which I had read until 
even at this day, I know it better than I know any other 
book; and this, with the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and the 
Waverly novels, both of which I read over and over 
again, had made poor books distasteful to me, and 
awakened in me a greed for the good, for which good 
fortune of my boyhood I cannot be too grateful." 

Similar testimony has been given by John Ruskin, the 
great writer and art critic. He said that his mother 
forced him, by steady toil, to learn long chapters by 
heart, as well as to read the whole Bible aloud about 
once a year. " But," he continues, " to that discipline I 
owe, not only a knowledge of the Book, but much of my 
general power of taking pains, and the best part of my 
taste in literature." He adds that it was impossible for 
one who knew by heart the thirty-second of Deu- 



THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 1 35 

teronomy, the one hundred and nineteenth Psalm, 
the Sermon on the Mount and the Apocalypse, even 
in the foolishest times of youth, to write entirely 
superficial or formal English. He also says of the 
Bible: "It is the grandest group of writings in 
existence-, put into the grandest language of the 
world, in the first strength of the Christian faith, 
by an entirely wise and kind saint, St. Jerome ; 
translated afterward with beauty and felicity into 
every language of the Christian world ; and the guide, 
since so translated, of all the arts and acts of that 
world which have been noble, fortunate and happy. 
And by consultation of it honestly, on any serious busi- 
ness, you may always learn what you should do in 
such business, and be directed perhaps besides, to 
work more serious than you had thought of." 

Another critic has said that " One reason why the 
Bible has so great literary value is that its style is both 
simple and strong." Coleridge, a good critic of style, 
though he did not always heed his own criticisms, 
thought it a kind of providence, that the Bible was 
translated at about the time when the English language 
had its greatest strength. Any one may see for him- 
self this simplicity and strength by comparing a chap- 
ter of the Bible with the leading article in a good 
newspaper. The contrast will teach him how much 
the modern style of writing has lost by sacrificing 
simplicity and strength for the sake of doing, what 
Goldsmith told Johnson he would do if he were to 



I36 THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 

write a book about animals, " Make all the little fishes 
talk like whales. " 

Rev. Dr. R. J. Breckenridge, the celebrated divine 
of Kentucky, once said to a friend: " I suppose that 
there is no book written on any subject, or in any 
language, that I could not master in one year, if I 
should set myself about it. 

" But I have made the Bible a special study for thirty- 
four years, and I never open it that I do not discover 
something new. It reminds me of the great firma- 
ment. Penetrate as far as you may, with the aid of 
the most powerful glass that the ingenuity of man has 
produced, and still there is something beyond." 

An anecdote is related of a conversation between 
Dr. Breckenridge and the brilliant Thomas Marshall, 
who did not believe in the inspiration of the Scriptures. 
Marshall asserted that any scholar could write as good 
parables as those of the New Testament. Said the 
doctor, " If you will write a production equal in its 
ideas and construction to the Parable of the Prodigal 
Son, I will agree that you are right and I am wrong, 
and I will give you three months in which to work. 
If it can be done, you are as well qualified to do it as 
anybody I know." 

Marshall accepted the proposition, and said he would 
do the work in twenty-four hours. In a week or two 
he returned and said, "Doctor, that thing can't be 
done. I give it up/ 

Sir Walter Scott, just before his death, desired his 



THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 137 

son-in-law to read to him. " From what book shall I 
read? " " And you ask? 1 ' said Scott. " There is but 
one." '-'I chose," said Lockhart, "the 14th chapter 
of St. John. He listened with mild devotion, and said, 
when I had done, ' Well, this is a great comfort. I 
have followed you distinctly, and I feel as if I was to 
be myself again.' " 

A popular writer has finely brought out the influence 
which the Bible had on the intellect of Daniel Webster, 
the manner in which it inspired his eloquence, and his 
astonishing familiarity with the Scriptures. He says that, 
"While a mere lad he read with such power and expres- 
sion that the passing teamsters, who stopped to water 
their horses, used to get i Webster's boy ' to come out 
beneath the shade of the trees and read the Bible to 
them. Those who heard Mr Webster, in later life, 
recite passages from the Hebrew prophets and Psalms, 
say that he held them spellbound, while each passage, 
even the most familiar, came home to them in a new 
meaning. One gentleman says that he never received 
such ideas of the majesty of God and the dignity of 
man as he did one clear night when Mr. Webster, 
standing in the open air, recited the eighth Psalm. 
Webster's mother observed another old fashion of 
New England in training her son. She encouraged 
him to memorize such Scriptural passages as im- 
pressed him. The boy's retentive memory and his 
sensitiveness to Bible metaphors and to the rhythm of 
the English version, stored his mind with Scripture. 



I38 THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 

On one occasion the teacher of the district school 
offered a jack-knife to the boy who should recite the 
greatest number of verses from the Bible. When 
Webster's turn came he arose and reeled off so many 
verses that the master was forced to cry, c enough.' It 
was the mother's training and the boy's delight in the 
idioms and music of King James's version that made 
him the 'Biblical Concordance of the Senate.' But 
these two factors made him more than a £ concordance.' 
The Hebrew prophets inspired him to eloquent utter- 
ances. He listened to them until their vocabulary and 
idioms, as expressed in King James's translations, 
became his mother-tongue. Of his lofty utterances it 
may be said, as Wordsworth said of Milton's poetry, 
they are i Hebrew in soul.' Therefore they project 
themselves into the future. The young man who 
would be a writer that shall be read, or an orator 
whom people will hear, should study the English 
Bible. Its singular beauty and great power as litera- 
ture, the thousand sentiments and associations which 
use has attached to it, have made it a mightier force 
than any other book." 

Horace Bushnell, one of the brightest intellects of 
this century, said of himself: "My own experience is 
that the Bible is dull when I am dull. When I am 
really alive and set in upon the text with a tidal pleas- 
ure of living affinities, it opens, it multiplies, discovers 
and reveals depths even faster than I can note them." 

Rev. DeWitt Talmage thus expresses his attachment 



THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 1 39 

to the sacred Word: "We open our Bibles, and we 
feel like the Christian Arab who said to the skeptic, 
when asked by him why he believed there was a God, 
' Hew do I know that it was a man instead of a camel 
that went past my tent last night? Why, I know him 
by the tracks.' Then, looking over at the setting sun, 
the Arab said to the skeptic, ' Look there ! that is not 
the work of a man. That is the track of a God.' 
We have all these things revealed in God's Word. 
Dear old book ! My father loved it. It trembled in 
my mother's hand when she was nigh fourscore years 
old. It has been under the pillows of three of my 
brothers when they died. It is a very different book 
from what it once was to me. I used to take it as a 
splendid poem, and read it as I read John Milton. I 
took it up sometimes as a treatise on law, and read it 
as I did Blackstone. I took it as a fine history, and 
read it as I did Josephus. Ah ! now it is not the poem; 
it is not the treatise of law; it is not the history. It is 
simply a family album that I open, and see right before 
me the face of God, my Father, of Christ, my Saviour; 
of heaven, my eternal home. 17 

Coleridge has said, u As the New Testament sets 
forth the means and condition of spiritual convales- 
cence, with all the laws of conscience relative to our 
future state and permanent being, so does the Bible 
present to us the elements of public prudence, instruct- 
ing us in the true causes, the surest preventions, and 
the only cure of public evils. I persist in avowing my 



140 THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. 

conviction that the inspired poets, historians, and sen- 
tentiaries of the Jews, are the clearest teachers of 
political economy; in short, that their writings are the 
"Statesman's Best Manual, 1 ' not only as containing the 
first principles and ultimate grounds of state policy, 
whether in prosperous times or in those of danger and 
distress, but as supplying likewise the details of their 
application, and as being a full and spacious repository 
of precedents and facts in proof." 

We have thus presented tributes and testimonies 
from some of the greatest divines, scientists, jurists, 
statesmen and critics of modern times, showing the 
influence of the Bible on personal character, literature, 
oratory, statesmanship and national progress, and such 
testimony might be multiplied by volumes. Is it not 
worth while to accept the opinions of these great men, 
and like them make the Bible a careful and continuous 
study? What book is so worthy of our earnest 
perusal? As has been eloquently said, "Cities fall, 
empires come to nothing, and kingdoms fade away as 
smoke. Where are Numa, Minos, Lycurgus ? Where 
are their books? and what has become of their laws? 
But that this book no tyrant should have been able to 
consume, no tradition to choke, no heretic maliciously 
to corrupt; that it should stand unto this day amid the 
wreck of all that was human, without the alteration of 
one sentence so as to change the doctrine taught 
therein — surely this is a very singular providence, 
claiming our attention in a very remarkable manner." 



THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. I4I 

It furnishes invaluable counsel in all the practical 
emergencies of life, its influence will strengthen and 
purify the character, and exalt the motives of life and 
conduct. It has been the source of strength and hope 
to millions of despairing souls, who have triumphed 
over troubles and temptations which else would have 
overwhelmed them. It has been a shelter from the 
storms of life, a consolation in times of affliction, and a 
light in the darkness of the Valley of the Shadow of 
Death. 

Among the dead on one of the battle-fields before 
Richmond, was found a soldier beneath whose pulse- 
less hand was an open Bible, and his fingers were 
pressed upon these precious words of the 23d Psalm: 
"Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 11 

Such has been and is its power and influence in life 
and in death. 

" Thou truest friend man ever knew, 

Thy constancy I've tried ; 
When all were false, I found thee true, 

My counsellor and guide. 
The mines of earth no treasures give 

That could this volume buy; 
In teaching me the way to live, 

It taught me how to die." 




<9HE (©HI^ISmiAN LlIPB. 



,HERE are few who do not believe in a life 
beyond the grave, and that our happiness or 
j^J||$ misery there, will depend on our character 
and conduct here. There are few who do not also be- 
lieve in the existence of a God, and that He has placed 
within us something, which we call conscience, by 
which we approve what is right, and condemn what is 
wrong. If we believe in the existence of right and 
wrong, our natural instinct teaches us that there exists 
a principle of justice, by which, somehow, wrong-doing 
will be punished, and well-doing rewarded. These 
are obvious truths which suggest themselves to our 
natural understanding, and even heathen races have an 
intuitive belief in the same doctrines. If, then, we be- 
lieve in a future life, in the existence of God, and in a 
principle of justice, and all beyond that seems dark, 
what attitude should reason and common sense con- 
strain us to take in reference to Christianity, and what 
judgment shall we pass upon the Bible? Here is a 
book which purports to come from God through di- 
vinely inspired men. It reveals to us our origin, our 
destiny, and the existence and character of God, and 

of his moral government. Without it, we should grope 

142 



THE CHRISTIAN LIFE. 143 

in darkness, and have no light except the dim and un- 
certain glimmer which proceeds from the natural 
world and our dim and unaided intuitions. 

The wonderful revelations of modern science are 
found to coincide with its account of the creation of 
the world, and in all other particulars; .the recent dis- 
coveries of records which have been hidden for thous- 
ands of years, as well as profane history, all attest its 
historic accuracy; the oldest book in the world, it has 
strangely survived empires and dynasties, and has 
come down to us through seas of blood, and devastat- 
ing famines and plagues which time and again have 
threatened to depopulate the earth. Its prophecies 
have been fulfilled to the very letter, although they 
were uttered by men of diverse temperament and sur- 
roundings, through a period extending over thousands 
of years. Its most malignant enemies have confessed 
that the system of morals which it teaches is without 
parallel elsewhere. The doctrines and precepts which 
it inculcates have swept over continents and the isl- 
ands of the sea, and wherever they go they establish 
peace, happiness, refinement and intelligence. The 
Bible is the massive pillar on which rests happy homes, 
orderly communities, institutions of learning, noble 
charities and free governments. Millions have died 
with its words on their lips, — torn by wild beasts in 
Roman amphitheatres, in the thick darkness of the 
catacombs, at the stake and gibbet, and under every 
conceivable condition of bodily anguish, — and yet they 



144 THE CHRISTIAN LIFE. 

have triumphed even in their tortures, and often their 
grand lives went out with a song and a shout of vic- 
tory. Thousands of the brightest intellects and most 
comprehensive minds of all ages have left testimony 
of their unalterable faith in its truth and inspiration, as 
well as their personal acceptance of its teachings. 
Millions of living voices, of every nation and tongue 
would joyfully add their testimony to the same ef- 
fect, and now, in the face of all this, what course can 
a rational, sensible, fair-minded person take, except to 
receive the Bible for what it assumes to be, — the re- 
vealed will of God. If the Bible be thus accepted, 
then the personal obligation is admitted to diligently 
study it and conform to its requirements. 

Christianity is adapted to the highest development 
of character and life. A writer has strikingly said: 
u It is too little considered what a breadth there is to 
Christianity in its relations to human wants. It is 
adapted to man's entire constitution. It addresses his 
reason. It enlarges his understanding and gives act- 
ivity to thought. It stimulates the instinctive aspira- 
tions of the soul, awakens high desires, enkindles and 
purifies the imagination, and directs to the best ends. 
It refines the sensibilities, and imparts warmth and 
tenderness to the affections, and tends to produce the 
enthusiasm which is essential to all great action.' ' 

Religion thus tends to the harmonious growth of all 
the faculties; it is so suited to human needs that it ele- 
vates man to the highest degree of perfection, whether 



THE CHRISTIAN LIFE. I45 

considered as to his physical, mental, or spiritual nature. 

Sir Matthew Hale, one of the purest and greatest 
jurists of any age, who was a devout Christian, said: 
" A man, industrious in his calling, if without the fear 
of God, becomes a drudge to worldly ends; vexed 
when disappointed, overjoyed in success. Mingle but 
the fear of God with business, — it will not abate a man's 
industry, but sweeten it; if he prosper, he is thank- 
ful to God who gives him power to get wealth; if 
he miscarry, he is patient under the will and dispensa- 
tion of the God he fears. It turns the very employ- 
ment of his calling into a kind of religious duty and ex- 
ercise of his religion,without damage or detriment to it." 

What a fine example was that of applying religion 
to the affairs of life, when the young Victoria, then a 
maiden of eighteen, on being aroused at midnight and 
informed that she was Queen of England, requested 
the venerable councilor who conveyed the message, to 
pray with her ; and they both knelt in prayer together, 
asking God to endow her with strength to perform her 
responsible duties, and to bless her reign. 

There is no other refuge like this, for those burdened 
with great trials and anxieties which well-nigh over- 
power them. Charles Lamb wrote of the woes of life, 
which few had felt more keenly than himself: " For 
ills like these, Christ is the only cure. Say less than 
this, and say it to the winds." 

The famous Patrick Henry wrote in his will: "I 
have now disposed of all my property to my family; 



I46 THE CHRISTIAN LIFE. 

there is one thing more I wish I could give them, and 
that is the Christian religion. If they had that, and I 
had not given them one shilling, they would be rich; 
and if they had not that, and I had given them all the 
world, they would be poor." 

Among the last words of Sir Walter Scott were 
these to his son-in-law: " Lockhart, I may have but 
a minute to speak to you. My dear, be a good man; 
be virtuous; be religious; be a good man; nothing else 
will give you any comfort when you come to lie here." 

In the hour of death there is no hope or consolation 
except in the exercise of a religious faith. How lamenta- 
ble the cry of the poor Roman Emperor Adrian as he 
felt the approach of death: " O my poor wandering 
soul! alas! whither art thou going? where must thou 
lodge this night? Thou shalt never jest more, never 
be merry more.*" How different the words of a Chris- 
tian woman, who had been shipwrecked, and whose 
voice was heard singing in the darkness as she was 
lashed to a spar: 

"Jesus, lover of my soul, 

Let me to thy bosom fly, 
While the billows o'er me roll, 
While the tempest still is high." 

When George III., King of England, was an old 
man, and nearly blind, he stood over the death-bed of 
his favorite daughter, the Princess Amelia, and said: 
" My dear child, you have ever been a good child to 
your parents. Your conduct has been above reproach. 
But I need not tell you that it is not by the excellen- 



THE CHRISTIAN LIFE. 1 47 

cies of your character alone that you can be saved. 
Your acceptance with God must depend on your faith 
and trust in the Lord Jesus."" " I know it," replied the 
dying princess, " and I can wish for no better trust." 

A few days before Coleridge, the poet, died, he 
wrote to his god-child: " On the eve of my departure, 
I declare to you that health is a great blessing; com- 
petence, obtained by honorable industry, a great bless- 
ing; and a great blessing it is to have kind, faithful and 
loving friends and relatives; but that the greatest bless- 
ing, as it is the most ennobling of all privileges, is to be 
indeed a Christian." 

Such is religion, — the gracious power which can dig- 
nify and ennoble the character, develop the whole be- 
ing, exalt the life, and fill it with rational enjoyment, 
and in the presence of death afford a hope and consola- 
tion more valuable than the whole universe beside. 

Church of the living God! in vain thy foes 

Make thee, in impious mirth, their laughing stock, 
Contemn thy strength, thy radiant beauty mock; 

In vain their threats, and impotent their blows — 

Satan's assault — Hell's agonizing throes! 
For thou art built upon th' Eternal Rock, 
Nor fear'st the thunder storm, the earthquake shock, 

And nothing shall disturb thy calm repose. 

All human combinations change and die, 
Whate'er their origin, form, design; 

But firmer than the pillars of the sky, 
Thou standest ever by a power Divine ; 

Thou art endowed with immortality, 

And can'st not perish — God's own life is thine? 

Wm. Lloyd Garrison. 



fl <9ALi^ mo jhhb Boys. 




HORACE MANN, one of the best friends to 
boys that ever lived, drew a picture of a 
young man over whom angels and demons 
were hovering, and contending for the mas- 
tery of his soul. The conception is not a flight of fancy, 
but is a terrible reality. Fortunately, however, you are 
not passive spectators, but have the power within your- 
selves to choose which of the two shall take possession 
of your lives. That line of Wordsworth's, " The 
child is father to the man," is woVth thinking about. 
It means that the habits, the principles, and the drift of 
life which you choose while you are boys, will go with 
you into manhood, and will determine what kind of a 
man you will be. It has been said of Benedict Arnold, 
the traitor, that he " was the only general in the 
American Revolution who disgraced his country. He 
had superior military talent, indomitable energy, and a 
courage equal to any emergency. The capture of 
Burgoyne's army was due more to Arnold than to 
Gates; and in the fatal expedition against Quebec, he 
showed rare powers of leadership. Had his character 
been equal to his talents, he would have won a place 
beside Washington and Green, inferior only to them 

in ability and achievements. But he began life badly, 

148 



A TALK TO THE BOYS. 149 

and it is not surprising that he ended it in disgrace. 
When a boy, he was detested for selfishness and cru- 
elty. He took delight in torturing insects and birds, 
that he might watch their sufferings. He scattered 
pieces of glass and sharp tacks on the floor of the shop 
he tended, that the barefooted boys who visited it 
might have sore and bleeding feet. The selfish cruelty 
of boyhood grew stronger in manhood. It went with 
him into the army. He was hated by the soldiers, and 
distrusted by the officers, in spite of his bravery, 
and at last became a traitor to his country." 

What a contrast to this picture is that of the gal- 
lant old Christian hero, Admiral Farragut. Listen to 
what he said of his boyish life, and of how he started 
to be a man: " When I was ten years old, I was with 
my father on board a man-of-war. I had some quali- 
ties that, I thought, made a man of me. I could swear 
like an old salt, could drink as stiff a glass of grog as 
if I had doubled Cape Horn, and could smoke like a 
locomotive. I was great at cards, and fond of gaming 
in every shape. At the close of dinner, one day, my 
father turned everybody out of the cabin, locked the 
door, and said to me, ' David, what do you mean to 
be?' 'I mean to follow the sea.' ' Follow the sea! 
Yes, to be a poor, miserable, drunken sailor before 
the mast; be kicked and cuffed about the world, 
and die in some fever hospital in a foreign land. 
No, David; no boy ever trod the quarter-deck with 
such principles as you have, and such habits as you 



I50 A TALK TO THE BOYS. 

exhibit. You will have to change your whole course 
of life if you ever become a man.' My father left me 
and went on deck. I was stunned by the rebuke, and 
overwhelmed with mortification. ' A poor, miserable, 
drunken sailor before the mast ! Be kicked and cuffed 
about the world, and die in some fever hospital! 
That is to be my fate,' thought I. l I'll change my life, 
and change it at once. I will never utter another 
oath; I will never drink another drop of intoxicating 
liquor; I will neyer gamble.' I have kept these three 
vows ever since. Shortly after I had made them I 
became a Christian. That act was the turning-point 
in my destiny." 

If you have the impression that people admire an 
impudent boy, who thinks it is smart and manly to 
drink, or smoke, or swear, you are greatly mistaken. 
Some one has drawn a picture of him, and we ask you 
whether you think it is worth while to try to be like 
him: "He may be seen any day, in almost any street 
in the village; he never makes room for you on the 
sidewalk, looks at you saucily, and swears smartly if 
asked anything; he is very impudent, and often vulgar 
to ladies who pass; he delights in frightening, and 
sometimes does serious injury to, little boys and girls; 
he lounges at the street corners, and is the first 
arrival at a dog-fight, or any other sport or scrape; he 
crowds into the postoffice in the evening, and multi- 
plies himself and his antics at such a rate that people 
having legitimate business there are crowded out. 



A TALK TO THE BOYS. 15 1 

And he thinks himself very sharp ; he is certainly very 
noisy; he can smoke and chew tobacco now and then, 
and rip out an oath most any time.'" 

You must remember that if you amount to anything 
in the world, it will be mainly through your own efforts. 
You may have good friends, but they cannot make your 
character or habits, — these are of your own fashioning. 

Some one, in an excellent talk to boys, says that a 
boy is something like a bar of iron, which in its 
natural state is worth about five dollars; if made into 
horseshoes, twelve dollars; but by being worked into 
balance springs for watches, it is worth two hundred 
and fifty thousand dollars, and then adds: u But the 
iron has to go through a great deal of hammering and 
beating, and rolling and pounding, and polishing, and 
so, if you are to become useful and educated men, you 
must go through a long course of study and training. 
The more time you spend in hard study, the better 
material you will make. The iron doesn't have to go 
through half as much to be made into horseshoes as it 
does to be converted into delicate watch-springs, but 
think how much less valuable it is. Which would you 
rather be, horseshoes, or watch-springs? It depends 
on yourselves. You can become whichever you will. 
This is your time of preparation for manhood.'" 

A wise man has said that " When forenoons of life 
are wasted, there is not much hope of a peaceful and 
fruitful evening. Sun-risings and sun-settings are 
closely connected in every experience.' 1 



152 A TALK TO THE BOYS. 

Youth is the golden time in life for acquiring knowl- 
edge. Your minds are free from harassing care and 
anxiety, and you have the time to read the best books 
as you will never have again. It is worth while to be a 
boy, to read some good books for the first time. There is 
Pilgrim's Progress, Robinson Crusoe, Schonberg Cotta 
Family, School Days at Rugby, and many others, 
which afford the greatest pleasure to any boy who has 
a healthy, boyish nature. If you are working hard 
during the day, you have still the long evenings and 
rainy days, and the fact that your reading has to be 
done during your odd moments of leisure, gives it a 
relish that an idle boy can never understand. 

A writer has given some excellent suggestions as to 
the use of one's evenings, and happy the boy who lays 
them to heart and profits by them : 4 ' The boy who spends 
an hour of each evening lounging idly on the street cor- 
ners, wastes in the course of a year three hundred and six- 
ty-five precious hours, which, if applied to study, would 
familiarize him with the rudiments of almost any of 
the familiar sciences. If, in addition to wasting an 
hour each evening, he spends ten cents for a cigar, 
which is usually the case, the amount thus worse than 
wasted would pay for ten of the leading periodicals of 
the country. Boys, think of these things. Think of 
how much time and money you are wasting, and for 
what ? The gratification afforded by the lounge on 
the corner, or the cigar, is not only temporary, but 
positively hurtful. You cannot indulge in them with- 



A TALK TO THE BOYS. 153 

out seriously injuring yourself. You acquire idle and 
wasteful habits, which will cling to you with each suc- 
ceeding year. You may in after life shake them off, 
but the probabilities are, that the habits thus formed 
in early life will remain with you till your dying day. 
Be warned, then, in time, and resolve that, as the hour 
spent in idleness is gone forever, you will improve each 
passing one, and thereby fit yourself for usefulness and 
happiness." 

It is well for you to learn early in life the value of 
money. As long as you spend what some one else 
has earned, you do not realize what it is worth, but 
probably the time will come when you will find out 
how much hard work a dollar represents. It is said 
that U A silver dollar represents a day's work of the 
laborer. If it is given to a boy, he has no idea of 
what it has cost, or of what it is worth. He would be 
as likely to give a dollar as a dime for a top or any 
other toy. But if the boy has learned to earn his 
dimes and dollars by the sweat of his face, he knows 
the difference. Hard work is to him a measure of 
values that can never be rubbed out of his mind. Let 
him learn by experience that a hundred dollars means 
a hundred weary days' labor, and it seems a great 
sum of money. A thousand dollars is a fortune, and 
ten thousand is almost inconceivable, for it is far more 
than he ever expects to possess. When he has earned 
a dollar he thinks twice before he spends it." 

Another good thing to remember is the importance 



154 A TALK TO THE BOYS. 

of things which seem to you but trifles. Nothing is a 
trifle which tends to promote careful habits or build 
character. This story is told of the eccentric Phila- 
delphia millionaire, Stephen Girard: " He once tested 
the quality of a boy who applied for a situation, by 
giving him a match loaded at both ends and ordering 

DO O 

him to light it. The boy struck the match, and after 
it had burned half its length threw it away. . Girard 
dismissed him because he did not save the other end 
for future use. The boy's failure to notice that the 
match was a double-ended one was natural enough, 
considering how matches are generally made; but 
haste and heedlessness (a habit of careless observation) 
are responsible for a greater part of the waste of prop- 
erty in the world.'" 

Said one of the most successful merchants of a west- 
ern city, to a lad who was opening a parcel, " Young 
man, untie the strings; do not cuf them. 77 

It was the first remark he had made to a new em- 
ploye. It was the first lesson the lad had to learn, 
and it involved the principles of success or failure in his 
business career. Pointing to a well-dressed man be- 
hind the counter, he said: " There is a man who al- 
ways whips out his scissors and cuts the strings of the 
packages in three or four places. He is a good sales- 
man, but he will never be anything more. I presume 
he lives from hand to mouth, and is more or less in debt. 
The trouble with him is, that he was never taught to 
save, I told the boy just now to untie the strings, not 



A TALK TO THE BOYS. 155 

so much for the value of the string, as to teach him 
that everything- is to be saved and nothing wasted. 11 

I would say to every boy: "Be courteous. 1 ' It 
costs nothing but a kind thoughtfulness and regard for 
the feelings of others, and it makes the atmosphere 
around you genial and sunny, and invariably wins 
friends. You owe it to yourselves as well as "to others, 
to constantly practice the little courtesies of life. 
Many a situation has been secured, or lost, through 
courtesy, or the lack of it. 

It is related that a boy once applied at a store for a 
situation. He was asked: " Can you write a good 
hand? 11 " Yaas, 11 was the answer. "Are you good 
at figures? 11 " Yaas, 11 was the answer again. " That 
will do — I do not want you, 11 said the merchant. 
After the boy had gone, a friend, who knew him well, 
said to the merchant, " I know that lad to be an hon- 
est, industrious boy. Why don't you give him a 
chance? 11 "Because he hasn't learned to say 'Yes, 
sir, 1 and 'No, sir, 1 " said the merchant. " If he answers 
me as he did when applying for a situation, how will 
he answer customers after being here a month." 

A willingness to work faithfully, though in the 
humblest capacity, has oftentimes proved a stepping- 
stone to positions of honor and trust. 

Sir Humphrey Davy was once asked to give a list of 
the greatest discoveries which he had made. He re- 
plied that his greatest discovery was Michael Faraday. 
He found him, a poor boy, washing bottles in his 



I56 A TALK TO THE BOYS. 

laboratory, and aided him, until he became one of the 
world's greatest men. If Michael had been at play in- 
stead of washing bottles, however, Sir Humphrey prob- 
ably would not have become interested in him, and if 
he had not been faithful in his humble duties he would 
have failed when given greater work. It is the boy 
who washes a bottle honestly, who is most likely to 
have large success as a man. 

Every boy who has any ambition is anxious to suc- 
ceed in life. You may not have decided just what 
your life work shall be, but you feel a consuming de- 
sire to do something, and to do it well. Be sure and 
master some occupation or calling that will afford you, 
by industry, sobriety and frugality, a livelihood, and in 
time, a competence. Do not make the mistake of 
those deluded creatures who despise honest labor and 
seek some genteel employment, and finally drift into 
that large class who live by their wits, and their petty 
meannesses and deceptions. Live so as to look every 
man or woman squarely in the face, not in brazen im- 
pudence, but in the consciousness of an upright life. A 
wise man has given these rules, which, if followed, will 
do much toward the formation of worthy character 
and good business habits: " Attend carefully to de- 
tails. Best things are difficult to get. Cultivate 
promptness, order and regularity. Do not seek a quar- 
rel where there is an opportunity of escaping. Endure 
trials patiently. Fight life's battles bravely. Give 
when you can, but give from principle, not because it 



A TALK TO THE BOYS. 1 57 

is fashionable. He who follows two hares is sure to 
catch neither. Injure no one's reputation or business. 
Join hands only with the virtuous. Keep your mind 
from evil thoughts. Learn to think and act for }~our- 
self. Make new friends. Never try to appear what 
you are not. Question no man's veracity without 
cause. Respect your word as you would your bond. 
Say " no " firmly and respectfully when necessary. 
Touch not, taste not, handle not the cup which intox- 
icates. Use your own brains rather than those of others. ? ' 

There are special temptations which will come to 
you with overwhelming power. One of these is the 
use of tobacco in some of its forms. It may seem to 
you a manly thing to puff a cigar, but depend upon it 
you will lower yourself in the estimation of your best 
friends by so doing. There are good physical reasons 
also why you should let it alone. A writer says of it : 
" It has utterly ruined thousands of boys. It tends to 
the softening of the bones, and it greatly injures the 
brain, the spinal marrow, and the whole nervous fluid. 
A boy who smokes early and frequently, or in any way 
uses large quantities of tobacco, is never known to 
make a man of much energy, and generally lacks 
muscular and physical, as well as mental power. We 
would warn boys, who want to be anything in the 
world, to shun tobacco as a most baneful poison." 

" Then, too, it will be a daily leak in your pocket. 
Before you begin to imitate the boy or man who is 
fascinating to you, simply because he has in his mouth 



I58 A TALK TO THE BOYS. 

a disgusting weed, or a few leaves rolled up, just stop 
and make an estimate of what this habit costs him 
daily. Multiply that by three hundred and sixty- 
five, and then by the number of years between 
} r our age and the good old age you hope to at- 
tain, and see if it does not look a little less worthy 
of your admiration and approval. Of how many com- 
forts must the laborer and his family be denied that 
the father may have his pipe. If it is a desirable 
habit, then it is time that your mother and sisters 
shared it with you. Above all, boys, you who so en- 
joy your freedom that you are sometimes almost 
tempted to be impatient of the home control, which 
love makes only as a silken cord, consider well before 
you let this, or any other habit, forge its links about 
you day by day, until, instead of the God-given free- 
dom which should be yours to exercise, you find 
yourself a slave.*" 

And so, too, of the intoxicating cup. Let nothing 
persuade you to touch, taste, or handle it. Take 
warning from the fate of others, who once were as 
strong and promising as yourself. Gough, the great 
temperance orator, once related this incident to show 
to what depth our poor humanity could fall when in 
the power of this debasing vice : A young wife and 
mother lay in an ill-furnished and comfortless room, 
dying. Years before she had stood at the marriage 
altar, beside the man of her choice, as fair and hopeful 
a bride as ever took a vow. Her young husband 



A TALK TO THE BOYS. 159 

loved her, at least so he said, and he solemnly vowed 
to love her to the end; but he loved liquor more than 
he loved his young and beautiful wife. It soon began 
to dawn upon her mind that she was in that most hor- 
rible of all positions — a position a thousand times 
worse than widowhood or the grave, — a position than 
which there are only two worse possible, — Hell, and 
that of a drunkard's husband, — I mean the heart- 
rending, degrading position of a drunkard's wife, 
She u^ed every means to reform him, but, like too 
many others, found her efforts useless. His cruelty 
and debauchery soon brought her to the grave. 

A little before she died, she asked him to come to 
her bed-side, and pleaded with him once more for the 
sake of their children, soon to be motherless, to drink 
no more. With her thin, long fingers she held his 
hand, and as she pleaded with him he promised in this 
terribly solemn way: " Mary, I will drink no more 
till I take it out of this hand which I hold in mine." 
That very night he poured out a tumbler of brandy, 
stole into the room where she lay cold in her coffin, 
put the tumbler into her withered hand and then took 
it out and drained it to the bottom. This is a scene from 
real life, and is not more revolting than hundreds of 
others which are happening in miserable, drink-cursed 
homes. In this matter do not be content with merely 
saving yourself, but work to save others. Tske sides 
against this evil, and be a champion for purity, sobriety 
and a high manhood. 



l6o A TALK TO THE BOYS* 

Learn early to value your good name, and guard it 
as you would your life. Your character is your best 
capital and fortune. During the war of the rebellion 
the most decisive movement of the whole campaign, 
depended on the character of a boy. It is said that the 
Confederate General, Robert E. Lee, while in conver- 
sation with one of his officers, was overheard by a 
plain farmer's boy to remark that he had decided to 
march upon Gettysburg instead of Harrisburg. The 
lad watched to see if the troops went in that direction, 
and then telegraphed the fact to Governor Curtin. The 
boy was sent for at once, by a special engine, and 
as the Governor and his friends stood about, the 
former remarked anxiously, " I would give my right 
hand to know that this lad tells the truth." A cor- 
poral promptly replied, " Governor Curtin, I know 
that boy. I lived in the same neighborhood, and I 
know that it is impossible for him to lie. There is not 
a drop of false blood in his veins." In fifteen minutes 
from that time the Union troops were pushing on 
towards Gettysburg, where they gained the victory. 

There is one safeguard against all the allurements 
and pitfalls which are set to entrap the young, — and 
that is to take upon yourself the Christian life and pro- 
fession, accepting the Bible as your guide and teacher. 
With your feet firmly established on the " Rock of 
Ages," you will have that strength and courage which 
will enable you to overcome the evil which assails you, 
and make the most of life both for yourself and others. 



fl ©ALI^ mO IFHB Gll^IiS. 




OU desire to be a lady. Did you ever 
take time to think how much this involves, 
and how you are to become one? This is a 
picture of her: "A lady must possess per- 
fect refinement and intelligence. She must be gracious, 
affable and hospitable, without the slightest degree of 
fussiness. She must be a Christian, mild, gentle and 
charitable, unostentatious, and doing good by stealth. 
She must be deaf to scandal and gossip. She must 
possess discrimination, knowledge of human nature, 
and tact sufficient to avoid offending one's weak points, 
steering wide of all subjects which may be disagreea- 
ble to any one. She must look upon personal cleanli- 
ness and freshness of attire as next to godliness. Her 
dress must be in accordance with her means, not flashy. 
Abhorring everything like soiled or faded finery, or 
mock jewelry, her pure mind and clear conscience will 
cause the foot of time to pass as lightly over the 
smooth brow as if she stepped on flowers, and, as she 
moves with quiet grace and dignity, all will accord 
her instinctively the title of lady." 

Is it not worth while to strive to become such a be- 
ing as the one we have described? Like her, you 

must be gentle and kind to others. 

161 



1 62 A TALK TO THE GIRLS. 

Queen Victoria once opened a large hospital with 
imposing ceremonies. Afterwards she passed through 
it, tenderly inquiring about the sufferers. One of 
them, a little child four years old, had said: "If I 
could only see the Queen, I would get well." Im- 
mediately the motherly Queen requested to be led into 
the little children's ward. Seating herself by the bed 
of the little sufferer, she said, in gentle tones: "My 
darling, I hope you will be a little better now." It was 
a simple act, but it was worthy of the queenly woman. 

A charming story is told of Jenny Lind, the great 
Swedish singer, which shows her noble nature. Once 
when walking with a friend, she saw an old woman 
tottering into the door of an almshouse. Her pity was 
at once excited, and she entered the door, ostensibly 
to rest for a moment, but really to give something to 
the poor woman. To her surprise, the old woman be- 
gan at once to talk of Jenny Lind, saying, — 

" I have lived a long time in the world, and desire 
nothing before I die but to hear Jenny Lind." 

" Would it make you happy?" inquired Jenny. 

" Ay, that it would; but such folks as I can't go to 
the play-house, and so I shall never hear her." 

" Don't be so sure of that," said Jenny. " Sit down, 
my friend, and listen." 

She then sung, with genuine glee, one of her best 
songs. The old woman was wild with delight and 
wonder, when she added, — 

" Now you have heard Jenny Lind." 



A TALK TO THE GIRLS. 1 63 

One who could go out of her way to do such a kind- 
ness to a poor old woman, must have had a noble na- 
ture, worthy of her grand success. 

Cultivate a sweet voice. Some one has said: 
" There is no power of love so hard to get and keep 
as a kind voice. A kind hand is deaf and dumb. It 
may be rough in flesh and blood, yet do the work of a 
soft heart, and do it with a soft touch. But there is 
no one thing that love so much needs as a sweet voice 
to tell what it means and feels, and it is hard to get it 
and keep it in the right tone. One must start in 
youth, and be on the watch night and day, at work, 
at play, to get and keep a voice that shall speak at all 
times the thoughts of a kind heart. But this is the 
time when a sharp voice is most apt to be got. You 
often hear boys and girls say words at play with a 
quick, sharp tone, as if it were the snap of a whip. 
Such as these get a sharp home voice for use, and keep 
their best voice for those they meet elsewhere. I 
would say to all boys and girls, " Use your guest 
voice at home."" Watch it by day as a pearl of great 
price, for it will be worth to you, in the days to come, 
more than the best pearl hid in the sea. A kind 
voice is a lark's song to a hearth and home. It is to 
the heart what light is to the eye." 

Thoreau said: " Be not sirnply good, but good for 
something." 

Aim to acquire a thorough knowledge of housekeep- 
ing, and to this end cheerfully take upon yourself such 



I64 A TALK TO THE GIRLS. 

parts of it as are suited to your age and strength. Is 
it not a pitiful sight to see a strong and naturally capa- 
ble girl assume the indolent airs of a lady of ease, while 
her poor mother is nearly exhausted by the hard work 
of the kitchen. If your mother, from mistaken indulg- 
ence, would permit such conduct on your part, do not, 
for your own sake as well as hers, allow yourself to 
follow such a selfish course, but take some share in the 
toils and cares of the household, and you will then have 
the happy consciousness of doing your duty and living 
to some purpose. Learn to be self-reliant by fitting 
yourself for some occupation by which you can 
earn, if need be, a livelihood by your own efforts. 

Madame de Stael, that brilliant French authoress, 
said: "It is not of these writings that lam proud, but 
of the fact that I have facility in ten occupations, in 
any one of which I could make a livelihood." 

The wheel of fortune never revolved more swiftly 
than now, and the rich to-day are poor to-morrow. 
The most pitiable instances of suffering and destitution 
are among those who have fallen from opulence, and 
are incapable of earning their own living. 

A practical writer, in referring to this subject, thus 
alludes to the sensible girl : " She is not merely a doll 
to be petted, or a bird to be supported; but, though 
she may be blessed with a father, able and willing to 
care for her every want, she cultivates her capabilities. 
She seeks to prepare herself for possibilities, and, 
though she may not need to, she qualifies herself to 



A TALK TO THE GIRLS. 1 65 

feed and clothe herself, so that, if left alone, she can 
stand upon her own feet, dependent upon no human 
being. With the multiplied ways of honest toil now 
open for young women, it seems quite excuseless for 
any one of them to be helpless. There are few nobler 
sights than that of a young woman who, though she 
may have a good home with father and mother who 
are willing to indulge her to the utmost, realizing the 
limitation of their means, and their hard self-denial, 
says, ' Father shall not be burdened by me; I will be 
self-reliant and clothe myself; yea, I will help him pay 
for the farm, help him educate the younger children.' 
Such an one is a thousand times superior to the pale- 
fingered, befrizzled, bejeweled substitutes for young 
women, who are good for nothing but to spend a 
father's hard-earned money." 

The field of woman's work has been wonderfully 
widening, and there are now many pursuits in which 
she can profitably engage. Try to find out what you 
can do best, and then spare no pains to perfect yourself 
in it. There will always be a place for those who 
can do the right work in the right way. 

Treasure your good name as your most precious 
jewel. Remember that your conduct now is the basis 
of your reputation, and you cannot guard it too care- 
fully. A person of excellent judgment has well said : 
" When a young lady, no matter how innocent of any- 
thing worse than a determination to amuse herself at 
all hazards, condescends to flirt with gentlemen, or to 



1 66 A TALK TO THE GIRLS. 

indulge in boisterous behavior in public places with 
other girls, she must not be surprised if, before long, 
she becomes aware of less heartiness in the greetings 
of the acquaintances whose society she prizes most, 
receives fewer invitations from anybody, and at last per- 
ceives, with painful clearness, that she is actually, even 
if undemonstratively, avoided, except by those whom 
she now does not wish to meet." 

A lady is scrupulously particular as to the company 
she keeps, and scorns to associate with those who are 
unworthy of her. If you allow yourself to be indiffer- 
ent in this regard, your good name will become 
tarnished. Besides, you expose yourself to the most 
terrible dangers, for thousands of wicked, miserable 
lives have been made so by a fatal lack of carefulness 
in this respect. There are two excellent rules which, 
if followed, would save thousands of young lives from 
ruin. One is, to make of your mother, or some one 
who stands in her place, a confidant and adviser, for 
you will never need the counsels of wisdom and experi- 
ence more than now. The other is, if you are ever 
about to take a step, and have some doubts in your 
mind whether it is prudent or proper, stop short and 
refuse to go farther. You would say that the man 
was a lunatic who would step off boldly and confi- 
dently in the darkness, in a region full of pitfalls, but 
he would not be more so than you would be, if you 
entered dangerous and forbidden ground in spite of the 
warnings of your friends and your own better judg- 



A TALK TO THE GIRLS. 



167 



merit. Perhaps you are discontented with your home, 
and are longing to go out into the world to engage in 
some great and noble work. Beware! for many a 
heart, as pure and aspiring as yours, has gone forth 
from a loving home to pluck the tempting fruit of 
honor and renown, and found it like the apples of 
Sodom, bitter to the taste, and as dry as ashes. 

Your life, beautiful as it is, and shielded by all that 
loving care can suggest, is yet open to temptation and 
dangers. 

Cling close to the home, and your parents' sheltering 
love, and give your lives into the keeping of Him who 
alone can make them rich, beautiful and blessed. 



" There blend the ties that strengthen 

Our hearts in hours of grief, 
The silver links that lengthen 

Joy's visits when most brief! 
Then, dost thou sigh for pleasure? 

O! do not widely roam! 
But seek that hidden treasure 

At home, dear home." 




Ijeaying 170MB, 




'HEN the period of life comes that you 
must turn from the dear and familiar 
scenes of childhood, and seek new friends 
and surroundings, though you may have 
longed for it, and fondly dreamed of its pleasures and 
advantages, yet, when the moment comes, what bitter 
tears are shed, and how the heart aches. 

Perhaps you are going away to school or college. 
For years you have longed for the day to arrive which 
should bear you away, in order that your ambition to 
obtain a good education might be gratified. Or, per- 
haps, you are going away to make your fortune in a 
business career, as thousands have done before you ; it 
may be to a large city, or to a remote part of the 
country, where } 7 ou will be thrown amongst new in- 
fluences and associates. Hitherto you have been un 
der parental restraint, and your love for them and your 
own personal pride, have withheld you from doing any 
thing of which they would not approve ; but hereafter 
you will be removed from this restraint, and left to act 
solely on your own judgment and impulses. If you 
have been accustomed to do right from principle, simply 
because it was right, then you will be likely to con- 
tinue from the same motive ; but if you have done so 

168 



LEAVING HOME. 1 69 

merely to keep the respect of your friends, call a halt, 
for you are in danger of a downward course. 

It may be that among new scenes and friends you 
may sometimes find yourself almost forgetting the old 
home, and the loved ones there who are still following 
you with their thoughts and prayers. Do not grieve 
their true hearts by neglect or ingratitude, which will 
embitter your after life with remorse. Cherish in your 
heart all the pure and holy associations of your early 
years. They will be as a shield to protect you from 
the temptations which are ever ready to destroy the 
unwary and thoughtless. 

Never may it be your experience to echo the pathetic 
song of Hood, as he recalled his early, happy home . 
'• I remember, I remember, 

The house where I was born, 
The little window where the sun 

Came peeping in at morn: 
He never came a wink too soon, 

Nor brought too long a day, 
But now I often wish the night 
Had borne my breath away !" 
Said a most successful business man, who was sur- 
rounded with all the appointments that wealth could 
command: "These fortunate days of my life are all 
the results of incidents in my youth that I deemed un- 
important at the time. My mother, in her letters, 
urged me to go to prayer meeting, and I used to pay 
close attention to that and the meetings, in order to 
write her what was said; and these habits gave me 
the confidence of my employers, and I was rapidly ad- 
vanced over others in position of trust and responsibility." 



I/O LEAVING HOME. 

Amos Lawrence, the eminent Boston millionaire and 
philanthropist, said of his habit of writing home regu- 
larly: " My interest in home, and my desire to have 
something to tell to my sisters to instruct and improve 
them, as well as to have their comment on what 1 
communicated, was a powerful motive for me to spend 
a portion of my time each evening in my boarding 
house, the first year I came to Boston, in reading and 
study." So, then, write frequently and regularly to 
the old home, keep up your interest in all that pertains 
to it, as well for your own sake as for those who wel- 
come your letters ; as more precious than gold. How- 
ever busy you may be, you can spare time enough to 
scratch off, with pencil, if need be, a long letter at 
least once a week, in which you can interest them in 
all the little details concerning yourself, your work, 
associates and surroundings. It will give you, besides, 
a facility in the ready use of words, which of itself is a 
valuable discipline. 

Another invaluable rule to form on leaving home is 
to keep holy the Sabbath. Thousands of young men 
leave home who have had excellent moral and religious 
training, who have been accustomed to observe the 
Sabbath strictly, and who intend to live exemplary 
lives , but, in their new homes, they are invited to take 
a ride, or a walk, to make calls, or go on some little 
excursion, and having no acquaintances in any church, 
and rinding the day rather tedious, they consent, and 
little by little they get in the habit of thus spending 



LEAVING HOME. \J\ 

the day, until all relish for the observance of religious 
exercises becomes distasteful. 

Aside from any religious considerations, and looking 
at it from a mere worldly point of view, no young man 
who has any regard for his future can afford to make 
the fatal and irreparable mistake of desecrating the 
Sabbath day, either by openly violating its sanctity, or 
by neglecting to attend its sacred ordinances. 

Many years ago, an awkward young man went to 
New York city to engage in business as a shoemaker. 
He was in the habit of regularly attending church. So 
on the Sabbath day he sought the house of God, and 
in looking for a seat, happened to be noticed as a 
stranger by a Mr Robert Lennox, then a man very promi- 
nent and much esteemed, and was invited by him into 
his pew. The next morning he started out to buy a 
stock of goods for his new establishment, and being 
obliged to buy on credit, took his references, with which 
he had provided himself, with him. Said the leather 
merchant to whom he applied: " Did .' not see you 
yesterday at church in the pew of Robert Lennox?" 
u I do not know, sir," said the young man, " I was at 
church yesterday, and a kind gentleman invited me to 
sit in his pew." Said the proprietor: " Pll trust any 
one that Robert Lennox invites into his pew. You 
need not trouble yourself about your references. When 
the goods are gone, come and get some more." The 
young man, as might be expected, became a success- 
ful and eminent merchant, and always considered that 



1/2 LEAVING HOME. 

he owed his success to attending church the first Sun- 
day he went to New York. 

Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe has said: " The man 
or woman cannot utterly sink, who, on every seventh 
day is obliged to appear in decent apparel, and to join 
with all the standing and respectability of the com- 
munity in a united act of worship." 

So make it a fixed resolution, that as soon as you get 
to your new home, or even a temporary stopping place, 
you will attend church, and if circumstances make 
it practicable, not only attend, but make yourself use- 
ful in some way. Take a Sabbath-school class, or if 
you cannot do that, assist in the library, or act in any 
other capacity where you can be of use. If you 
are not needed in any of these, join a Bible class, and 
identity yourself with the school. This will bring you 
into contact with refining and elevating influences, 
with people whose friendship will be of the greatest 
value to you, and, better than all else, will lead you on in 
that life whose " ways are pleasantness and whose paths 
are peace." Avoid all company, habits and associa- 
tions that you would wish to conceal from your par- 
ents, or that you cannot write about freely in your 
home letters; and you will escape the shoals upon 
which hundreds of thousands of lovely and promising 
youths have made shipwreck of their bodies and souls. 
To do this, you must exercise a firm resolution, and 
you will need every day, and continually, divine guid- 
ance and help. 



Female Society. 




NE of the most marked men of this cen- 
tury, Disraeli, who achieved distinction in 
vSSfSy many different lines of thought and action, 
toward the close of a career of extraordinary success, 
made the remarkable statement that " a female friend, 
amiable, clever and devoted, is a possession more valu- 
able than parks and palaces, and without such a nurse, 
few men can succeed in life, — none be content.' 1 The 
reason why multitudes of gifted and brilliant men fail 
in their career, is for want of the very traits of charac- 
ter which female society would impart. How man}' 
men are intellectual, well informed, and possess a com- 
plete practical knowledge of the pursuit they enter 
upon, but they are brusque, imperious, and over-bear- 
ing; they lack the urbanity of demeanor, the consider- 
ation of other's feelings, the gracefulness of expression, 
which are necessary to conciliate men and to draw 
them to themselves ; and for the need of these qualities 
their progress is impeded, or they fail m their plans 
altogether. The female character possesses those 
qualities in which most men are deficient, — the delicate 
instincts, the acute perceptions, the ready judgment, 
the wonderful intuitions, — these all belong to her by 
native right, and are usually acquired bv men through 

J 73 



174 FEMALE SOCIETY. 

her influence. The same brilliant author already 
quoted, in his " Lothair," makes one of his characters 
to say to a promising young man: " You have been 
fortunate in your youth to become acquainted with a 
great woman. It develops all a man's powers and 
gives him a thousand talents." That young man is in 
a perilous position who sneers at the society of pure 
and sensible women, and who turns aside from them to 
mingle with the coarse and depraved of his own sex. 
Thackeray, who was a keen observer of the world 
about him, and whose profound knowledge of human 
nature was truly remarkable, said: " All men who 
avoid female society have dull perceptions, and are 
stupid, and have gross tastes and revolt against what 
is pure. All amusements of youth to which virtuous 
women are not admitted, rely upon it, are deleterious 
in their nature." 

. That young man who can inspire the respect of 
a good and sensible woman, who by his powers 
of conversation can make the time pass agreeably 
to her, and who can convince her that he is pru- 
dent, well informed and honorable, is a man that 
can make men respect him also, and will be likely to 
make his way in the world in such a manner as to find 
and fill its best places. 

One of the old English poets relates in charming 
verse a pretty story of a nobleman who had a son who, 
in his younger years, was so uncouth, so dull and 
averse to learning and society, that he despaired of 



FEMALE SOCIETY. 175 

ever making him worthy of his name, and sent him out 
of his sight to be brought up with the swineherd. 
But the awkward, boorish youth happened one day 
to see a beautiful and noble maiden, and was at once 
smitten with admiration at her charms of person and 
manner. From that time he was another being; he 
was filled with a strong and unquenchable desire to 
make himself worthy of her notice, and to his father's 
surprise and delight he appeared before him and in- 
formed him that he was now ready to take up the 
tasks and books he had before despised. He was 
inspired by a new purpose, and changed^ as if by 
miracle, and in course of time, under the stimulus of 
his awakened aspiration, he became graceful in his de- 
meanor, gallant in his conduct, learned and pleasing 
in his discourse, one of the most noble and accom- 
plished of young men, — the favorite of his father and 
of the household, and at last won the fair lady who 
had been the cause of this wondrous change. 

This is romantic, but it is the romance of real life, 
and thousands of young men have been awakened in a 
similar manner to noble aims and lofty aspirations. 
In this world we need all the aids we can command to 
lift us from the low plane on which we stand to more 
exalted heights of purpose and achievement ; and rely 
upon it, young man, that if you possess one spark of a 
manly and chivalrous spirit, the society of pure and 
exalted women will fan it to a flame of more earnest 
endeavor. 



Roman's Sphere and (Mission, 




URING the last fifty years a radical change 
has been effected in public sentiment, in 
regard to women's work in the world. It is 
only within a comparatively recent time that 
colleges and the learned professions have been opened 
to her, and a thousand occupations promise her fair 
remuneration, and an honorable place in the great cat- 
alogue of industrial pursuits. This sphere of woman's 
activity is continually widening, and new fields of labor 
are constantly inviting her to enroll herself in the great 
army of wage winners. In the olden time she was 
consigned to one of two places — either that of drudge 
or lady — either to do the most menial and dependent 
service, for a totally inadequate compensation, or to 
occupy an idealized place, where a few superficial 
accomplishments only, were allowable, and any exhibi- 
tion of a cultivated intellect would be stigmatized as 
audacious and manlike. It is not strange that with 
such a transition, there has come a tendency to the 
other extreme — to ignore sex, and womanly instincts, 
and to regard men and women alike as on the same 
plane. But nature is more powerful than reformers, 
and while it is wise that every daughter should have 

i 7 6 



Woman's sphere and mission. 177 

the ability to earn an honorable and independent liveli- 
hood in case of any emergency, yet it is the flat of 
Providence, nevertheless, that it is the destiny of most 
women to become wives and mothers, and their 
training should recognize this great fact. But we 
must not forget that woman, when a wife and mother, 
is not belittled, but ennobled, and her influence vastly 
enlarged. What her influence may be in national 
affairs, is thus stated by that keen and sagacious states- 
man, De Tocqueville: " 1 do not hesitate to say that 
the women give to every nation a moral temperament, 
which shows itself in its politics. A hundred times I 
have seen weak men show real public virtue, because 
they had by their sides women who supported them, 
not by advice as to particulars, but by fortifying their 
feelings of duty, and by directing their ambition. 
More frequently, 1 must confess, I have observed the 
domestic influence gradually transforming a man, 
naturally generous, noble and unselfish, into a cow- 
ardly, common-place, place-hunting, self-seeker, think- 
ing of public business only as a means of making 
himself comfortable — and this simply by contact with 
a well-conducted woman, a faithful wife, an excel- 
lent mother, but from whose mind the grand notion 
of public duty was entirely absent." 

Many of the greatest statesmen have had wives who 
co-operated with them in their labors, and helped to 
conduct diplomacies and mould the destiny of nations. 
The book which, more than any other of modern times, 



178 woman's sphere and mission. 

aroused public sentiment as to the nature of a great na- 
tional evil, was written by a woman; much of it in her 
kitchen with her child in her lap, in snatches between 
household duties. And yet Webster and Clay, with all 
the flights of their impassioned eloquence, amid listening 
senates, and applauding multitudes, never shaped 
public opinion, moved men's souls, or had as potent an 
influence in shaping our future as a nation, as the story 
of " Uncle Tom's Cabin." And its mission did not 
end there; for, translated into nearly all languages, it 
has worked like leaven over nearly the whole world, 
to arouse in all nations a love for justice and universal 
freedom. Harriet Beecher Stowe as an orator or leg- 
islator might have been a total failure, but the whole 
world inclined its ear to listen to the voice of her 
womanly sympathy and pleadings for justice, as she 
spoke out of her own heart, and from her own hearth- 
stone. Those women who affect to despise their 
womanly instincts, and long for a public career, gen- 
erally reap a bitter harvest of disappointed hopes. 

Nearly a generation ago there was in an eastern 
academy a bright young girl, full of theories as to how 
to uplift humanity, and longing to go out in the world 
as a reformer to revolutionize society. She was the 
daughter of a wealthy man, and scorning marriage as 
a condition too contracted for her powers, she went out 
to fulfill her life mission. About thirty years after, her 
former teacher called on her and found her a sharp, 
petulant and disappointed woman. She thus made her 



woman's sphere and mission. 179 

complaint: " There is no high career open to our sex. 
I tried lecturing, but did not catch the public ear. I 
have written two or three books; they did not sell, and 
my publishers cheated me. I studied law, and for 
years tried in vain to fight my way into the courts. I 
am making no effort now. I was born a century too 
soon. The world is not yet ripe for women of my 
kind." Thus embittered against the world, her life 
was going out in failure and regret, and it was because 
she was not willing to lay hold of the work within her 
reach. This young lady had a classmate, the daughter 
of a poor farmer. She also went out into the world, 
without any exalted theories of benefiting the race, but 
found no difficulty in finding something that she could 
do. With her warm sympathy and sturdy good sense, 
she ministered to the needs of those about her. She 
took a course of study at a training school for nurses, 
watched by sick beds, and became a very angel of 
mercy. Afterwards she took charge of an orphan 
asylum, and then, hastening to the relief of stricken 
sufferers at the height of a terrible epidemic, she gave 
up her life for others, and thus became a noble martyr 
to duty and to humanity. Here are two examples, 
the one of theory, the other of action, — the one thirst- 
ing for distinction, the other actuated by a simple 
desire to do good. 

There is no greater fallacy than to suppose that 
a woman can not be well read, possess a broad cul- 
ture and a well disciplined mind, and at the same 



180 woman's sphere and mission. 

time be a capable housewife. Mary Somerville, who 
in her day was the foremost woman of the world 
in scientific attainments, was also an excellent house- 
keeper, and one of her friends thus speaks of her home 
life: " Her friends loved to take tea at her house. 
Everything was in order; the walls were hung with her 
fine drawings ; her music stood in the corner, her table 
was spread with good things, and she herself as ready 
to play the affable hostess, as though she had never 
worked out an astronomical problem." Hawthorne 
has said: "It should be woman's office to move 
in the midst of practical affairs, and to gild them 
all, the very homeliest, — were it even the scouring 
of pots and kettles, — with an atmosphere of love- 
liness and joy.'" One of the greatest needs of 
women is more education, not merely of the schools, 
but a general knowledge which will enable them 
to obtain a broader view of the world and its ac- 
tivities. Thousands of women have so much leis- 
ure that they become lonely, discontented and com- 
plaining. Why should they not go through the 
enchanting field of literature, and pluck the fairest 
flowers of thought and sentiment, or look back through 
the vistas of the past and familiarize themselves with 
its chief actors and events? Why should they not 
keep informed as to what is going on in the world, in 
science, philosophy, politics, inventions and general 
progress; and especially in the vital issues and perplex 
ing problems which our own country is called upon to 



woman's sphere and mission. 181 

face and to solve? Surely such training and culture 
would make woman better fitted to be the companion 
of her husband, and the instructor of her children, and 
a whole horde of petty and frivolous and often imagin- 
ary cares and annoyances would be dispelled. 

Says that spicy and brilliant writer, Gail Hamilton: 
" Natural tact will do much, but it cannot supply the 
x place of education. When a woman has learned to 
make a pudding she has learned but the smallest part 
of her duty. She needs to know how to sit at the ta- 
ble and dispense a hospitality so cordial and enlivening 
that the pudding shall be forgotten. There are a 
thousand women who can make a pudding, where 
there is one who is mistress of her servants, of her 
children, of her husband, of her home, of her position." 

A woman who is all such a description implies, is 
one who must fit herself for it by cherishing great 
thoughts, and a noble appreciation of her responsibility. 
She must be mistress of a store of ideas and an ex- 
haustless fund of general knowledge. 

The sphere of the woman is to preside over the 
home as its light and inspiration. No charms so cap- 
tivating, no grace so irresistible, no spirits so exuber- 
ant, no wit so cheery, no conversation so fascinating, 
no culture so varied, but can find in the home fit place 
for their varied charms. 

A gifted writer has thus beautifully described the 
gentle, modest, unassuming and self-sacrificing mother, 
who, thank God, can be recognized in multitudes of 



1 82 woman's sphere and mission. 

happy homes as she moves about quietly in the duties 
of her home life, — and where can be found a more de- 
serving tribute to the worth and mission of woman: 
" She never dreamed that she was great; or that she 
was specially useful; or that she had achieved any- 
thing worth living for. Sometimes, when she read 
the stories of historic heroines, she, too, had her 
' dreams of fair women,' and looked with a sigh upon 
her life, made up of little deeds, so little that even she 
who did them was not conscious of the doing. Her 
monument was her home. It grew up quietly, as 
quietly as a flower grows, and no one knew — she did 
not know herself — how much she had done to tend 
and water and train it. Her husband had absolute 
trust in her. He earned the money; she expended it. 
And as she put .as much thought in her expenditure as 
he put in his earning, each dollar was doubled in the 
expending. She had inherited that mysterious faculty 
which we call taste ; and she cultivated it with fidelity. 
Neither man nor woman of the world could long re- 
sist the subtle influence of that home; the warmth of 
its truth and love thawed out the frozen proprieties 
from impersonated etiquette; and whatever circle of 
friends sat on the broad piazza in summer, or gathered 
around the open fire in winter, they knew for a time 
the rare joy of liberty — the liberty of perfect truth and 
perfect love. Her home was hospitable because her 
heart was large; and any one was her friend to whom 
she could minister. But her heart was like the old 



woman's sphere and mission. 183 

Jewish temple — strangers only came into the court of 
the Gentiles; friends into an inner court; her husband 
and her children found a court yet nearer her heart of 
hearts; yet even they knew that there was a Holy of 
Holies which she kept for her God, and they loved and 
revered her the more for it. So strangely was com- 
mingled in her the inclusiveness and the exclusiveness 
of love, its hospitality and its reserve. 55 

Thus far we have spoken only of wives and mothers 
as home-makers; but far be it from us to lose sight of 
that noble company of unwedded home-builders who, 
as daughters, and sisters have been the guardian 
angels of the homes they have created, or maintained for 
those who otherwise must have been in their helpless- 
ness forced to depend upon strangers, or seek an 
uncertain foothold in homes not their own. 

Who would withhold the homage due to such 
women as Caroline Herschel, Mary Lamb, Miss Mit- 
ford, Louisa Alcott, the Cary sisters, and the 
thousands of other gifted and noble women, who, 
though neither wives nor mothers, have made the 
world richer and better for the homes they have cre- 
ated and adorned? and, beautiful for all time will be 
the picture of that home of the sisters in Bethany 
toward which He — the greatest and best who ever 
trod this earth — loved to turn his weary feet, and 
which he so often blessed with his presence. 



fflAI^IAGE. 




" Either sex alone 
Is half itself, and in true marriage lies 
Nor equal, nor unequal: each fulfills 
Defect in each, and always thought in thought, 
Purpose in purpose, will in will, they grow." 

fir 

>IR WALTER SCOTT once gave this ad- 
vice to a young friend: " Settle yourself in 
-^/ v life while you are young, and lay up by so 
doing, a stock of domestic happiness against age or 
bodily decay. There are many good things in life, 
whatever satirists or misanthropes may say to the con- 
trary; but probably the best of all, next to a conscience 
void of offense, is the quiet exercise and enjoyment 
of social feelings, in which we are happy ourselves, and 
the cause of happiness to those dearest to us." 

" What greater thing is there for two human souls," 
wrote George Eliot, " than to feel that they are joined 
for life — to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest 
on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other 
in all pain, to be one with each other in silent, unspeak- 
able memories at the last parting." 

" Marriage," says a recent writer, " is to a woman 

at once the happiest and saddest event of her life ; it is 

the promise of future bliss raised on the death of the 

present enjoyment. She quits her home, her parents, 

184 



MARRIAGE. 185 

her companions, her amusements — everything on 
which she has hitherto depended for comfort, for affec- 
tion, for kindness and for pleasure. Buoyed up by the 
confidence of requited love, she bids a fond and grate- 
ful adieu to the life that is past, and turns with excited 
hopes and joyous anticipation to the happiness to come. 
Then woe to the man who blights such fair hopes! who 
can treacherously lure such a heart from its peaceful 
enjoyment and the watchful protection of home — who 
can, coward-like, break the illusions which have won 
her, and destroy the confidence which love had inspired.'' 
Mrs. Browning has given voice to the same feelings 
in these words: 

" If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange 
And be all to me? Shall I never miss 
Home-talk and blessing, and the common kiss 
That comes to each in turn, nor count it strange 
When I look up, to drop on a new range 
Of walls and floors — another home than this?" 

Theodore Parker says of marriage: " Men and wo- 
men, and especially young people, do not know that it 
takes years to marry completely two hearts, even of 
the most loving and well sorted. But nature allows 
no sudden change — marriage is gradual, a fraction of 
us at a time. A happy wedlock is a long falling in 
love. But the golden marriage is a part of love 
which the bridal-day knows nothing of. Youth is the 
tassel and silken flower of love; age is the full corn, 
ripe and solid in the ear. Beautiful is the morning of 
love with its prophetic crimson, violet, purple and 
gold, with its hopes of day to come. Beautiful also is 



1 86 MARRIAGE. 

the evening of love, with its glad remembrances and its 
rainbow side turned toward heaven as well as earth." 

There is much food for thought in these suggestive 
remarks on the duties of the married relation: 

" Happiness and selfishness can never flourish on the 
same stem; one kills the other. To be wedded hap- 
pily, the promoter is congeniality and unselfishness. 
A good woman will endure much for her husband, the 
man for his wife. A true woman will smile, cheer, 
and help her husband should clouds come. Then is the 
time to test her character, to solve the problem, — the 
object of her matrimony. Men, look for women with a 
heart, a soul; do not let their facial beauty be their sole 
attraction, rather let it be their beauty of soul and 
character that inspires your love for them. For with 
these there is no autumn, no fading; their leaves will 
be fresh and beautiful forever." 

Dr. Goodell thus expresses the relation, and mutual 
dependence of husbands and wives to each other: 
" Some complain that their home joys are meager. 
Let them remember how mean and beggarly are their 
contributions. They cannot reap where they do not 
sow. To make the home the happiest and most help- 
ful place in the world, each must give the best to it. 
Not to society, not to business, not to outside intimates, 
but to the family circle, must the choicest gleanings be 
brought from all the fields of life, as the bee brings to 
his hive, and not elsewhere, honey from all the sweet- 
est flowers. The husband and wife are in a true sense 



MARRIAGE. 1 87 

- one. Whatever is good for him is good for her. 
Whatever is due from him £o her is also equally due 
from her to him. They move together. He owes no 
duty to her that she does not owe to him a counter 
part. It is an even thing. What the wife requires of 
her husband, that let her give to him. She is married 
'for better or for worse ;' let her resolve that it shall 
be for better. Matches are not made in heaven, and 
will be for the worse, if there be no watchful, patient 
care to work them out on earth for heaven." 

The following maxims, if put m practice daily, 
would do much to promote harmony and good feeling 
in the home: 

" Never make a remark at the expense of the other; 
it is meanness." 

u Never manifest anger." 

" Never speak loud to one another, unless the house 
is on fire.'" 

" Never reflect on a past action which was done 
with a good motive, and with the best judgment." 

" Never part without loving words to think of dur- 
ing your absence. Besides, it may be that you will 
not meet again in life." 

" Let each one strive to yield oftenest to the wishes 
of the other, which is the mutual cultivation of an ab- 
solute unselfishness.' 

The biographer of Andrew jackson draws this 
charming picture of his married life: " It was a happy 
marriage — a very happy marriage — one of the very 



1 88 MARRIAGE. 

happiest ever contracted. They loved one another in 
the highest respect. They loved one another dearly. 
They testified the love and respect they entertained 
for one another by those polite attentions which lovers 
can not but exchange before marriage and after mar- 
riage. Their love grew as their years increased, and 
became warmer as their blood became colder. No 
one ever heard either address to the other a disrespect- 
ful, or irritating, or unsympathizing word. They were 
not as familiar as is now the fashion. He remained 
'Mr. Jackson ' to her always — never < General,' still 
less 'Andrew.' And he never called her ' Rachel,' 
but ' Mrs. Jackson,' or ' wife.' " 

The following words will be appreciated by every 
one who has been so fortunate as to experience the 
truth of them: " There is no combination of letters in 
the English language which excites more pleasing and 
interesting associations in the mind of man than the 
word ' wife '. It presents to the mind's eye a cheerful 
companion, a disinterested adviser, a nurse in sickness, 
a comfort in misfortune, and an ever affectionate part- 
ner, ft conjures up the image of a lovely, confiding 
woman, who cheerfully undertakes to contribute to 
your happiness, to partake with you the cup, whether 
of weal or woe, which destiny may offer. The word 
i wife ) is synonymous with the greatest earthly bless- 
ing; and we pity the unfortunate wight who is com- 
pelled, by fate's severe decree, to trudge along life's 
dull pilgrimage without one," 



MARRIAGE. 1 89 

Miss Muloch says, with much truth, that " Love 
alone is not sufficient in marriage. But wanting love, 
nothing else suffices; no outward suitability, no tie of 
gratitude or duty. All break like threads before the 
wrench of the ever-grinding wheel of daily cares." 

Too often the husband allows his business or pro- 
fession to shut him out from the one with whom he 
promised to walk, not only through the first brief 
months of wedded life, but all along life's journey, and 
the wife, alas, learns to find her daily solace and com- 
fort in her children, or, if lacking these, in some social 
or benevolent work. 

What a contrast is this picture to that home in 
which mutual love cheers every pathway, lightens 
every burden, and dispenses joy to all around. 

Tennyson has sung in beautiful and prophetic words 
of the perfect union of man and woman: 

" In the long years liker must they grow; 
The man be more of woman, she of man ; 
He gain in sweetness and in moral height, 
Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world; 
She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care, 
Nor lose the childlike in the larger mind, 
Till at last she set herself to man, 
Like perfect music unto noble words; 
And so these twain, upon the skirts of Time, 
Sit side by side, full-summ'd in all their powers, 
Dispensing harvest, sowing the To-Be, 
Self-reverent each and reverencing each, 
Distinct in individualities, 
But like each other ev'n as those who love. 
Then comes the statelier Eden back to man. 1 ' 



<<5he CQornHE^s Influence, 




'•' The mother, in her office, holds the key 
Of the soul ; and she it is who stamps the coin 
Of character, and makes the being who would be a savage, 
But for her gentle cares, a Christian man. 
Then crown her Queen o' the World." 

— Old Play. 



APOLEON never exhibited a more pro- 
found conception of the real- sources of 
national power than when he expressed the 
sentiment, that upon the mothers of France depended 
the greatness and prosperity of the empire. Woe to 
the world when the pure, strong instincts of tender 
motherhood are disregarded, when the sweet voice 
loses its power to restrain, and the maternal kiss to 
conquer the perverse inclinations and willful passions 
of our unruly natures. 

It has been said that " the intellectual calibre of the 
mother, her manner of conversation, her habits of 
reading and thought, all have a mighty influence on 
her children;" and it is a profound and well-recognized 
truth. To mothers are intrusted the shaping of lives 
which, in turn, shape the destinies of the world. Theirs 
is a power more potent than swords or bayonets, 

councils or senates. 

190 



THE MOTHERS INFLUENCE. I9I 

Some one has finely said: " It is related of Phidias 
that in constructing the statue of Minerva at Athens, 
he so wrought his own image into her shield, that it 
could not be removed without destroying the statue 
itself. Thus ineffaceably does the mother engrave her 
mental likeness, her moral character, upon the soul of 
the child. Not until that soul shall be annihilated 
will the maternal image be removed." 

It is a beautiful tribute to the influence of mother- 
hood to observe how the greatest and purest minds 
recur with ever increasing satisfaction to the maternal 
influence and training in their early life, and attribute all 
their successes to her gentle teachings. The excitable 
temperament and passionate nature of the brilliant yet 
unhappy John Randolph was soothed by the remem- 
brance of his mother, and he said: "I would have 
been an atheist if it had not been for one recollection; 
and that was the memory of the time when my de- 
parted mother used to take my little hands in hers, and 
cause me, on my knees, to say, ' Our Father, which 
art in heaven. 7 " His mother died when only thirty- 
six years of age, and in the bloom of her womanhood, 
and he always retained a vivid remembrance of her 
person, her charms, and her virtues, and often did he 
shed tears over her grave by whose side it was the 
last wish of his heart to be buried. " I am a fatalist," 
said he; "I am all but friendless; only one human 
being ever knew me — my mother." 

The celebrated Benjamin West related that his 



192 THE MOTHER'S INFLUENCE. 

mother once kissed him eagerly, when he showed her 
a likeness he had sketched of his baby sister; and he 
adds: " That kiss made me a painter." 

That sturdy and independent representative of 
western manhood, — Thomas H. Benton, — attributed 
his success to the influence of his mother, and in a 
speech made in New York thus spoke of her: "My 
mother asked me never to use tobacco, and I have 
never used it from that time until the present day. 
She asked me not to game, and I have never gamed. 
She admonished me, too, against strong drink, and what- 
ever capacity for endurance I may have at present, 
and whatever usefulness I may attain in life, I attribute 
to having complied with her highest and earnest 
wishes." 

That silver-voiced orator, Henry Clay, who seemed 
to wake at will the chords of human sympathy, and to 
reach the hearts of men by his wondrous personal 
magnetism, always spoke of his mother in terms which 
denoted the most devoted affection and profound ven- 
eration. It is said that habitual correspondence 
existed between them to the last hour of life. He ever 
mentioned her as a model of maternal character and 
female excellence, and it is said that he never met his 
constituents after her death, without some allusion to 
her, which deeply affected both himself and his audi- 
ence. And when the great statesman came to die, 
nearly his last words were, " Mother, mother, mother." 
One of the strongest characteristics of the poet, Pope r 



the mother's influence. 193 

was his extraordinary attachment to his mother, in whose 
society he found an exquisite delight. Neither the 
flatteries of the great, nor the pride of his fame, could 
ever stifle his filial love, and among the most touching 
strains which his genius inspired are those addressed 
to his mother. 

Benjamin Franklin was in the habit of referring to 
his mother with the most tender affection, and was 
ever solicitous for her comfort and happiness. Thomas 
Gray, the gifted author of the immortal " Elegy," was 
most affectionate to his mother during her life, and 
after her death it is said that he seldom mentioned her 
without a sigh. The inscription which he placed over 
her grave describes her as " the careful, tender mother 
of many children, one of whom had the misfortune to 
survive her." He was buried by her side, according 
to his own directions. The regard of Washington for 
his mother is shown in her powerful influence over 
him, and in the nobility of character which was early 
developed by her careful training and wise counsel. 
When an ambitious youth longing to enter the arena 
of life, and battle for its prizes, he broke up an engage- 
ment to go to sea, because he saw that his going 
would occasion her great sorrow and solicitude. And 
in all the triumphs of his life, it was his pride first to 
acquaint her with the honors conferred upon him, as if 
to delight her eyes with the fruit of her planting. 

Amos Lawrence, the great Boston merchant, always 
spoke of his mother in the strongest terms of venera- 



194 THE MOTHERS INFLUENCE. 

tion and love, and plainly showed that his heart over- 
flowed with constant gratitude to her. It is said that 
amongst the earliest and most cherished recollections of 
his early years and his childhood's home, was the form 
of his mother, bending over his bed in ' silent prayer, 
when she was about leaving him for the night. Is it 
any wonder that a youth cherishing such memories, 
when thrown in the whirl of a large city full of snares 
and pitfalls for the unwary, should be armed to resist 
temptations and battle for the right, and win the 
choicest rewards of manly character and business suc- 
cess ? 

The mother of Gen. Houston was a superior woman, 
and, enduring all the privations of frontier life, strug-' 
gled heroically to bring up her large family in such a 
manner as should ensure their own welfare, and make 
them useful to society. Gen. Francis Marion, of Revo- 
lutionary fame, was in his younger days an industri- 
ous young farmer, and was not distinguished above 
other young men of the neighborhood in which he 
lived, except for his devoted love and tender regard 
for his mother, whose influence over him awakened 
those qualities of manliness which made him a success- 
ful leader of men in those eventful times. 

The celebrated Lord Macaulay, who earned honors 
and fame such as are the privilege of but few men to 
enjoy, thus tenderly recurs to the influence of his 
mother: " Often do I sigh, in my struggles with the 
hard, uncaring world, for the sweet deep security I felt, 



THE MOTHERS INFLUENCE. I95 

when of an evening, nestling in her bosom, I listened 
to some quiet tale suitable to my age, read in her ten- 
der and untiring voice. Never can I forget her sweet 
glances cast upon me when I appeared asleep; never 
her kiss of peace at night. Years have passed away 
since we laid her beside my father in the old church- 
yard; yet still her voice whispers from the grave, and 
her eye watches over me as I visit spots long since 
hallowed to the memory of my mother.'" Thus do 
the sweet and silent influences of a mother's life reach 
that inner sanctuary of the soul which is silent to all 
the intoxicating strains of worldly glory. 

Once, in one of our large cities, an idolized daughter 
was missed from a happy home, and for months and 
years the heartbroken mother endeavored to find trace 
of her, but in vain. It was supposed that through 
certain associations she had fallen into an abandoned 
life, but the mother did not despair. The fathomless 
depths of her love for her lost child suggested an expe- 
dient. She had her own portrait painted, and obtained 
permission to hang it up in a mission house, where 
miserable creatures sometimes came for a morsel of 
food, or for words of kindness and hope in their yearn- 
ings for a better life. At length, one night a poorly clad 
and haggard young woman came, and after hungrily 
eating the lunch that was provided, was turning to go 
away when she caught sight of the portrait. She 
stood transfixed as if in a dream; then the great tears 
began to rain down upon her pallid face, and she sank 



I96 THE MOTHER'S INFLUENCE. 

to the floor, sobbing, " My mother, my mother, my 
mother!" The thought of that mighty mother-love 
melted her heart to repentance, — the mother's faith 
was triumphant, and the erring one was restored to 
her home, never more to return to her evil life. O, 
the wondrous depths of maternal love, — like the infi- 
nite sea, whose vast caverns no plummet e'er can 
reach; it is the truest type of that more wondrous ten- 
derness of the all-wise Father above, for the teeming 
millions of this sorrowing earth. How many hearts 
that have struggled long and faithfully with the trials 
and temptations of life will give glad assent to the 
beautiful sentiment which a loving heart has embodied 
in these words: " Blessed is the memory of an old- 
fashioned mother. It floats to us now like the perfume 
of some woodland blossoms. The music of other 
voices may be lost, but the entrancing memory of hers 
will echo in our hearts forever. Other faces will 
be forgotten, but hers will shine on until the 
light from heaven's portals shall glorify our own. 
When in the fitful pauses of busy life our feet wander 
back to the old homestead, and, crossing the well worn 
threshold, stand once more in the quaint low room, so 
hallowed by her presence, how the feeling of childish 
innocence and dependence comes over us. How many 
times when the tempter lured us on, has the memory 
of those sacred hours, that mother's words, her faith 
and prayers, saved us from plunging into the deep 
abyss of sin." 



THE MOTHER S INFLUENCE. 1 97 

As one has well said, " Who can fathom the depth 
of a mother's love? No friendship so pure, so 
devoted. The wild storm of adversity and the bright 
sunshine of prosperity are all alike to her; however 
unworthy we may be of that affection, a mother never 
ceases to love her erring child. Often when alone, as we 
gaze up to the starry heaven, can we in imagination 
catch a glimpse of the angels around the ' great wiiite 
throne ; ! and among the brightest and fairest of them 
all is our sweet mother, ever beckoning us onward 
and upward to her celestial home." 

The Edens of earth are the happy homes in which a 
gentle mother presides, and rules the charmed house- 
hold w r ith the precious influences of a noble woman- 
hood; nurturing into fruition in those about her, the 
graces and harmonies of life and character, as the sun 
shine brings out the beauty, flavor and fragrance of 
rarest flowers and fruit. Better than all the gaud of 
wealth, better than all the fastidious tastes and refine- 
ments of luxury, better than highest aesthetic culture 
or intellectual superiority, is the presence in the home 
of one of these queens of the heart, whose realm is 
bounded by the affections and well-being of her house- 
hold. Such mothers and such homes will send out 
sons such as the world needs, and men delight to honor, 
and daughters whose loveliest adornments are the vir- 
tues and graces which they possess. 

T. S. Arthur, in speaking of his mother, has repeated 
the experience of thousands of men now in honorable 



igb the mother's influence. 

positions, and bearing manfully the heavy burdens of 
life. He says: " For myself, I am sure that a differ- 
ent mother would have made me a different man. 
When a boy I was too much like the self-willed, excit- 
able Clarence; but the tenderness with which my 
mother always treated me, and the unimpassioned but 
earnest manner in which she reproved and corrected 
my faults, subdued my unruly temper. When I 
became restless and impatient, she always had a book 
to read to me, or a story to tell, or had some device to 
save me from myself. v 

" Happy he 
With such a mother! faith in womankind 
Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high 
Comes easy to him, and tho' he trip and fall 
He shall not blind his soul with clay." 

There are multitudes of the world's best workers 
to-day, whose wayward disposition in youth was sub- 
dued by the influence of their mothers, and so they 
were saved to become helps instead of burdens to 
society. One of the most delightful female writers of 
our age has given us this charming picture of a mother 
and the happy home-life which she created. She says : 
a The most perfect home I ever saw was in a little 
house, into the sweet incense of whose fires went no 
costly things. The mother was the creator of the home ; 
her relation with her children was the most beautiful I 
have ever seen. Every inmate of her house involun- 
tarily looked into her face for the key note of the day; 



THE MOTHERS INFLUENCE. 



I 99 



and it always rang clear. From the rosebud or clover- 
leaf which, in spite of her hard work, she always found 
time to put by our plates at breakfast, down to the 
story she had on hand to be read in the evening, there 
was no intermission of her influence. She has always 
been and always will be my ideal of a mother, wife, 
home-maker." 

Mothers, there is no honor on earth so great and so 
full of blessed rewards as that of sending out into the 
world a man or woman fully equipped for a noble life 
work. Co-workers, are you with God in the uplifting 
and regeneration of the race. Do not be discouraged 
if your toil to you seems fruitless, and your words 
unheeded, for away down in the deep recesses of the 
hearts of your children is your image deeply graven, 
your words and gentle teachings are there recorded, 
and in future years, and perhaps in distant climes, your 
lessons, and patience, and influence, will bring a rich 
harvest of reward. 




Influence op (©hildi^en, 




)NE of the greatest contrasts between the 
present age and the boasted civilization of 
ffijtff@\ Greece and Rome in their palmiest days, is 
the place accorded to childhood. None of 
the great classic writers of the Roman Republic, or of 
the age of Pericles, in Greece, seem to have estimated 
the relation of childhood to the future of the world. 
It is true that Cornelia, the noble Roman matron, said 
of her children, the Gracchi, " These are my jewels," 
but she was the exceptionally fond mother. In Sparta 
only sturdy boys were esteemed of value, and they, be- 
cause they would make soldiers, while it was allowable 
to put female infants, and the weak and maimed, to 
death. This inhuman people had a cruel custom of 
annually scourging their children at the altars of their 
deities, and sometimes this was done so violently that 
they died from the barbarous torture. But happily 
for the world, a better era has dawned upon it, and 
now the influence of childhood is recognized as one of 
the strongest agencies to uplift our race. The great- 
est men have shown their greatness by the freshness 
of their hearts, manifested by their love of children. 
When Michael Angelo was at the zenith of his fame, 
and popes and emperors were willing to pay fabulous 

20Q 



INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 201 

prices for his work, a little boy met him in the street, 
with an old pencil and piece of dirty brown paper, and 
asked him for a picture. He took the materials, went 
to the side of the street, sat down on a curbstone, and 
drew his little admirer a picture. 

Wellington, the renowned hero of Waterloo, once 
met a little boy who was crying bitterly. He asked 
what was the matter, and the boy said: " We are go- 
ing to move, and I don't know what will become of 
my tame toad.'" Wellington said: " Never mind, I 
will take care of your toad," and he kept his word, and 
regularly the little boy received a letter from the great 
soldier stating that the toad was well. An incident is 
related of John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, 
which perhaps reveals one of the sources of his won- 
derful power to influence others for good: "When I 
was a little boy in Bristol, 11 said Robert Southey, " I 
was running down a flight of steps with my sister — a 
beautiful girl with flowing ringlets. John Wesley took 
her up in his arms and kissed her, and blessed her, 
and then he laid his hand on my head and blessed me." 
His eyes were full, and the tears flowed down his 
cheeks as he said this, and he added: " I feel as if I 
had the blessing of that man upon me yet." 

Henry Ward Beecher, who had a heart as fresh as 
a child's, thus speaks of them: " Nothing on earth 
grows so fast as children. It was but yesterday, and 
that lad was playing with tops, a buoyant boy. He is 
a man ? and gone now. There is no more childhood 



202 INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 

for, him, or for us. Life has claimed him. When a 
beginning is made, it is like ravelling a stocking, stitch 
by stitch gives way till it is all gone. The house has 
not a child in it; there is no more noise in the hall, — 
boys rushing pell-mell; it is very orderly now. There 
are no skates, sleds, balls or strings left scattered about. 
Things are quiet enough now. There is no delay for 
sleepy folks ; there is no longer any task before you lie 
down, of looking after any body, or tucking up the 
bedclothes. There are no disputes to settle, nobody 
to get off to school, no complaints, no importunities 
for impossible things, no rips to mend, no fingers to 
tie up, no faces to be washed, or collars to be ar- 
ranged. There was never such a peace in the house! 
It would sound like music to have some feet clatter 
down the front stairs! O, for some children's noise! 
What used to ail us that we were hushing their loud 
laugh, checking their noisy frolic and reproving their 
slamming and banging the doors? We wish our 
neighbors would only lend us an urchin or two, to 
make a little noise in these premises." 

" God bless the young!" exclaims Talmage, "they 
will have to live many a day if they want me to throw 
a cloud on their life by telling them it is hard, and dark, 
and doleful. It is no such thing." 

The nephew of Lord Macaulay, the historian, thus 
speaks of his love for children: " He was, beyond all 
comparison, the best of playfellows, unrivalled in the 
invention of games, and never wearied of repeating 



INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 203 

them. He had an inexhaustible repertory of small 
dramas for the benefit of his nieces, in which he sus- 
tained an endless variety of parts with a skill that at 
any rate was . sufficient for his audience. An old 
friend of the family writes to my sister, Lady Holland : 
' I well remember that there was one never-failing 
game of building up a den with newspapers behind the 
sofa, and of enacting robbers and tigers ! you shrieking 
with terror, but always fascinated, and begging him to 
begin again; and there was a daily recurring observa- 
tion from him, that, after all, children were the only 
true poets.' 

" Macaulay was so devoid of egotism, and exacted 
so little deference and attention from those with whom 
he lived, that the young people around him were under 
an illusion which to this day it is pleasant to recall. It 
was long, very long, before we guessed that the world 
thought much of one who appeared to think so little of 
himself. I remember telling my schoolfellows that I 
had an uncle who was about to publish a c History of 
England ' in two volumes, each containing six hundred 
and fifty pages ; but it never crossed my mind that the 
work in question would have anything to distinguish 
it except its length. As years went on, it seemed 
strange and unnatural to hear him more and more 
frequently talked of as a great man; and we slowly 
and almost reluctantly awoke to the conviction that 
1 Uncle Tom ' was cleverer, as well as more good-na- 
tured, than his neighbors. " 



204 INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 

There is something inexpressibly touching in the 
provisions of the will of an eccentric millionaire, named 
McDonough, who resided at New Orleans, which con- 
tains the following clause: " And (I was near forget- 
ting that) I have still one request to make, one little 
favor still to ask, and it shall be the last. It is, that it 
may be permitted, annually, to the children of the free 
schools, situate nearest my place of interment, to plant 
and water a few flowers around my grave. This little 
act will have a double tendency; it will open their 
young and susceptible hearts to gratitude and love to 
their divine Creator, for having raised up, as a humble 
instrument of his bounty to them, a poor, frail worm 
of earth like me; and teach them, at the same time, 
what they are, whence they came, and whither they 
must return." 

Stern man of business though he was, yet his heart 
yearned to be remembered by merry-hearted children. 

Miss Muloch draws a picture of childhood in these 
graceful words: u A child asleep; painters draw it, 
poets sing about it. Yet the root of its mystery re- 
mains a mystery still. About it seem to float the secrets 
of earth and heaven — life and death; whence we came 
and whither we go; what God does with and in us, 
and what He expects us to do for ourselves. It is as 
if, while we gaze, we could catch drifting past us a 
few threads of that wonderful web which in its en- 
tirety He holds solely in His own hand." 

When the cares and burdens of life are upon us, and 



INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 2C>5 

our spirits sink and faint under the load, how refresh- 
ing it is to turn to the sports and prattle of children. 

It has been well said: " Children may teach us one 
blessed — one enviable art — the art of being happy. 
Kind nature has given to them that useful power of 
accommodation to circumstances, which compensates 
for many external disadvantages, and it is only by in- 
judicious management that it is lost. Give him but a 
moderate portion of food and kindness, and the peas- 
ant's child is happier than the duke's; free from arti- 
ficial wants, unsatiated by indulgence, all nature min- 
isters to his pleasure; he can carve out felicity from a 
bit of hazel twig, or fish for it successfully in a puddle. 
I love to hear the boisterous joy of a troop of ragged 
urchins, whose cheap playthings are nothing more 
than mud, snow, sticks, or oyster shells, or to watch 
the quiet enjoyment of a half-clothed, half-washed fel- 
low of four or five years old, who sits, with a large, 
rusty knife, and a lump of bread and bacon, at his 
father's door, with a serenity that might move the 
envy of an alderman." 

Charles Kingsley confessed, after he had experienced 
the triumphs of a singularly successful life: " There is 
no pleasure that I have experienced like a child's mid- 
summer holiday — the time, I mean, when two or three 
of us used to go away up the brook, and take our din- 
ners with us, and come home at night tired, dirty, 
happy, scratched beyond recognition, with a great 
nosegay, three little trout, and one shoe, the other 



206 INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 

having been used for a boat, till it had gone down 
with all hands, out of soundings." 

We little realize how much inspiration we gather 
from child life, how we unconsciously take lessons 
from them in the difficult qualities of trust and sim- 
plicity. A graceful writer has said: " When we feel, 
like Wordsworth, that 'the world is ever with us;' 
that we are growing of the earth, earthy; that our 
perceptions of the beauty and truth of God's universe 
are becoming dull — we rush into the society of 
children — into the company of hearty, happy, silly 
children, who love flowers and birds, pet rabbits, 
clowns and pantomimes, strange, wonderful legends 
and mystic elfin traditions — not the abominably clever 
little men and women produced by the ' forcing sys- 
tem,' who have no relish for the simple joys of child- 
hood. We join them in their revels; we listen to their 
prattle ; we make their pursuits ours, their pleasures 
ours, and, as far as we can, their nature ours. It is as 
if we were in the company of angels unawares. Our 
heart grows purer, our mind grows healthier; some- 
thing of a new life and a new spirit, however evan- 
escent, lifts us above ourselves. Who is it speaks of 
children as c birds without wings from Paradise?' 
His must have been a wise and kindly nature — the 
comparison is so apt, so true; for do they not, with 
their pleasant voices, make a sweet and happy music, 
which seems like an air from heaven, — like the tender 
strain of some angelic choir?" 



INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 207 

Said Theodore Parker: " A baby is better for the 
heart than a whole academy of philosophers." How 
it softens the nature, and freshens the heart. Some 
sympathetic soul offers this fond tribute to babyhood, 
which will find a response in every fond parents 
breast: " The baby rules everybody in the house; 
issues her mandates in the feeblest of voices, yet all 
hasten to interpret her wishes. It matters not that 
they be expressed in the most unintelligible of dialects, 
every one intuitively makes out a wondrously wise 
meaning, and watches with the intensest interest for 
the next utterance. Even papa is vanquished by 
baby's feeble cry, and when she stretches out her arms 
to go to him, he is prouder, happier far, than when 
news of gain, by sea or land, quickens ambition, but 
stifles the gentler voices of his soul, the music tones of 
humanity. 

a Is baby asleep? Then is the household hushed, 
and the mother, as she sits by its side, sewing, and 
occasionally rocking the cradle with her foot, is most 
truly the ' guardian angel' of its happiness, and the 
smiles which flit across its innocent face might well be 
the reflections of her own love-lighted beaut} 7 . 

u Is baby sick? How dull and dark seems the dwell- 
ing? How envied the mother, because she only can 
soothe the little sufferer and hush that plaintive moan- 
ing! and if the baby dies, how silently and shiveringly 
do the household gather round the family hearth, 
whence the light is departed, and the Are seems 



208 INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 

quenched! Those who say it was only a baby, never 
knew how the tendrils of affection twine round the in- 
nocent helplessness, which we would fain guard from 
sorrow, and develop into the full maturity of truth and 
beauty. Such never knew how that tiny touch can 
magnetize into forgetfulness the pain of care ; how the 
thought that upon that mind is yet unwritten the con- 
sciousness of sin, makes us emulate ourselves, in the 
desire to throw upon its impressive nature the light of 
a holy life; and how the wondrous mystery of its un- 
folding life sends us to the Mercy Seat seeking the 
wisdom that cometh from above, that we may train 
the child for God." 

In the early days of California, during the fierce 
struggle for gold, there were no women for a long 
time in the mining towns. At length a miner brought 
his wife and young child to one of the camps, and on 
one occasion took them to the rude theatre. During 
the entertainment, when the orchestra was playing, the 
child cried. The rough miners had not heard a child's 
voice for many months, and it carried them back at 
once to the homes they had left. An old miner got 
up, and with eyes swimming with tears, and voice 
trembling with emotion, shouted, "Stop those fiddles," 
and the orchestra stopped, and the cry of the child 
was cheered until it became quiet." A lover of 
children made this observation: " People who habit- 
ually put children out of their hearts, and close their 
doors upon them, have no idea how much comfort they 



INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 20Q 

set aside — what pleasure, what amusement. Of course 
the little creatures meddle with things, and leave the 
traces of their fingers on the wall, and cry, and 
' bother' a little; but, when one gets into the way of 
it, as mothers and other loving relatives do, those 
things become of minor importance. Children say 
such pretty things, and do such funny things, the touch 
of their little hands is so soft, the sound of their little 
voices so sweet, their faces are so pretty, their move- 
ments so graceful and comical, the whole family goes 
baby-mad — and it is no wonder. No book was ever 
written that was half so interesting as a little child 
that is learning to talk and to think, developing from 
a tiny animal into a being with a conscience and a heart." 
Fanny Fern said: " To my eye, no statue that the 
rich man places ostentatiously in his window, is to be 
compared to the little expectant face pressed against 
the window pane, watching for its father, when his 
day's labor is done. 1 ' What father's heart does not 
respond to this little touch of every day life. How 
his heart swells with happy pride and joy, as he feels 
the little fingers, and receives the childish clasp of 
affection. The wealth of the Indies could not pur- 
chase such happiness or satisfaction. A loving nature 
has said: " Call not that man wretched who, what- 
ever else he suffers as to pain inflicted, pleasure denied, 
has a child for whom he hopes and on whom he doats. 
Poverty may grind him to the dust, obscurity may 
cast its darkest mantle over him, the song of the gay 



210 INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 

may be far from his dwelling, his face may be un- 
known to his neighbors, and his voice may be un- 
heeded by those among whom he dwells — even pain 
may rack his joints, and sleep may flee from his pillow, 
but he has a gem, with which he would not part for 
wealth, defying computation for fame rilling a world's 
ear, for the luxury of the highest health, or the 
sweetest sleep that ever set upon a mortal's eye." 

There is a proverb, u He who takes the child by the 
hand takes the mother by the heart." 

No truer words than these were ever uttered: " A 
house full of children composes as powerful a group of 
motives as ever moved a heart or hand; and the secret 
of many a gallant struggle and triumph in the world's 
battles may be found throned in its mother's lap at 
home, or done up in a little bundle of white flannel 
A nation's hope, before now, has been found in a bas- 
ket of bulrushes. Get ready to be afraid of the man 
that children are afraid of, and be sure that he who 
hates them is not himself worth loving." 

One of the most beautiful and suggestive descrip- 
tions of the good time coming, foretold by prophets, 
is contained in the simple words, " A little child shall 
lead them." 

Many an erring soul has been led back to purity of 
life and heart by a little, toddling child. The follow- 
ing incident has been related as a sketch from prison 
life: 

" A wicked woman was arrested for drunkenness, 



INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 211 

and, seeing a lost child, she pulled herself away from 
the officer and in a moment had the child in her arms, 
and her face pressed close to its face. i I had one 
like you once,' she murmured, 'but he died. That 
was so long ago that I thought I had forgotten it, — 
there has been so much happening since — so much 
that I wish to God had never happened.' In a mo- 
ment she looked up, as sober as a mother by the 
hearthstone, and asked whether she could take the 
child into the cell with her, and, having permission, 
she sat all night with the sleeping child held close to 
her bosom. The tears that fell from her eyes were as 
balm to her bruised heart, and the little one lifted her 
soul to purer heights than it had known for many, 
many weary days in the past." 

A drunkard being asked how he reformed, kept re- 
peating, " The little shoes did it." On being pressed 
to explain, he said that one evening the liquor seller's 
little girl came in and put out her feet to show her fine 
new shoes. He thought of his own little girl, with her 
bare feet; of his starving wife and wretched home; of 
health, friends and fortune lost. It pierced him like a 
knife. He went out the next day, went to work, and 
with his earnings bought some bread and a pair of 
shoes, and that was a turning point to a sober life. 

A story is told of a rough, reckless man, who many 
years ago kept a rude tavern in the far West. He 
came from Wales, and from the evil expression of his 
eyes was known as " Wild Evans." He sold liquor, 



212 INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 

fought, swore, gambled and drank fearfully, and was 
dreaded as the terror of that region. There seemed 
to be but one tender spot in his nature, and that was 
his affection for his child, a bright and beautiful boy, 
three years old. One day he drank a glass of liquor, 
and took up his boy in his arms to drain the sugar at 
the bottom. The child eagerly drank it, then looked 
up into his face and swore at him. The father was 
dumb with astonishment, put him on the floor, and 
looked about as if bewildered. His eye fell on the old 
family Bible, which they had brought from their far- 
away home in Wales, and he thought of his mother as 
he had often seen her reading it. That first oath from 
his boy had set his wicked life plainly before him. He 
seized a pack of cards and threw them into the fire, 
and then carried out all his liquors and poured them 
on the ground, and ever since, for many long years, 
has been known and loved as a good neighbor, a 
preacher in rough mining camps, and an active Sun- 
day-school worker. 

Children have sharp eyes, and parents must be 
wholly blinded to their responsibility who will not 
strive to put away evil habits for the sake of their 
children, if for no other motive. 

A keen observer of children has said: " Every one 
who has been much among children and young people 
ought to have learned one thing about them — that 
they are keenly observant. Few things escape their 
notice. They are something like that mystic being 



INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN. 21 3 

spoken of by the Hebrew seer, and described by him 
as being ' full of eyes.' They watch us when we little 
think it. People sometimes fancy it is an easy thing to 
deceive the young. Alas ! they make a fearful blun- 
der. It is easier to hoodwink adults than juveniles. 
One sometimes hears folks talk in an exceedingly 
' knowing ' and confident style about ' getting on the 
blind side of children.' But the fact is that it is not, 
after all, a very easy thing to find the said l blind 
side,' and often, when we are deluding ourselves with 
the notion that we have found it, lo ! there are a pair 
of large, watchful eyes fixed on us all the while ! Rest 
assured, it is a dangerous thing to presume too much 
on the ignorance of the young." 

The world is growing better as the influence of 
childhood upon it is more and more recognized. Never 
has there been a time when so much has been done to 
meet their needs and to make their lives happy and 
healthful. The most graceful exponents of art, the 
most brilliant minds in literature, the most ingenious 
contrivers of all that can amuse and instruct, are laid 
under contribution to minister to childhood, and in 
their happiness, is largely reflected the happiness of 
the world. 




(STAINING (©HILDI^EN. 




VOLUMES have been written, and theories 
without number have been advanced on this 
most important subject, and yet there are a 
few practical fundamental principles which 
underlie all mere theories, which can be reduced to a 
limited space- 
One of the most important things is the training of 
the child to submission and obedience to proper au- 
thority. Without this, any system of instruction is radi- 
cally defective, and nothing can make up for it. 
There must be discipline and obedience, for if the child 
is allowed to hold in contempt the law of the parent 
and household, he may reasonably be expected to hold 
in the same contempt the laws of society, of the state 
and of his Creator. Indulgence of parents is one of 
the crying evils of the age. 

By proper discipline is not meant a brutal exercise of 
physical power over the child, for this would develop 
anger and stubbornness, but the exercise of reasonable 
methods. A practical educator gives this as his ex- 
perience: " I know that many persons would think it 
wrong not to break down the child's self-will by main 

force, to come to battle with him and show him that 

21 4 



TRAINING CHILDREN. 21 5 

he is the weaker vessel; but my conviction is, that such 
struggles only tend to make his self-will more robust. 
If you can skillfully contrive to delay the dispute for a 
few minutes, and get his thoughts off the excitement of 
the contest, ten to one he will give in quite cheerfully; 
and this is far better for him than tears and punish- 
ment." 

The following incident from the home-life of the 
royal family of Russia is a fine illustration of what can 
be accomplished by parental tact: " The Crown 
Prince of Russia was always a very sensible man in the 
management of his household, and he is ably seconded 
by his wife. On one occasion the governor of his 
children came to him and said: 

" ' Your Highness, I must complain of the little 
prince; he refuses to have his face washed in the morn- 
ing.' 

u ' Does he?' answered the Crown Prince. 'We'll 
remedy that. After this let him go unwashed.' 

" Now, the sentries have to salute every member of 
the royal family — children and all — whenever they 
pass. The da}^ after, the little four year-old prince 
went out for a walk with his governor. As they 
passed a sentry-box where a grim soldier was posted, 
the man stood rigid without presenting arms. 

" The little prince, accustomed to universal defer- 
ence, looked displeased but said nothing. Presently 
another sentry was passed. Neither did this one give 
a sign of recognition, The little prince angrily spoke 



2l6 TRAINING CHILDREN. 

of it to his governor, and they passed on. And when 
the walk was finished, and they had met many soldiers, 
and none of them saluted the prince, the little fellow 
dashed into his father's presence, exclaiming: 

" 'Papa! Papa, you must whip every man in your 
guards! They refuse to salute when I pass.' 

" ' Ah, my son,' said the Crown Prince, 'they do 
rightly, for clean soldiers never salute a dirty little 
prince.' After that the boy took a shower bath every 
morning." 

Marion Harland gives this wise advice to mothers on 
this subject of tact: "Be tactful in the avoidance of 
needless issues. Never, except to defend a principle, 
throw down the gauntlet or give battle. But, the first 
shot fired, stand your ground. Break engagements, 
consume hours of time, bear your own pain and the sight 
of his — brave and do anything rather than yield the 
field to him as conqueror. He will never forget your 
defeat, nor let you do it. " 

Love will suggest many expedients for making 
obedience as easy as possible, but let no one fail to 
teach the child that obedience must be complete and 
unquestioning. It is a pitiful sight to see a parent 
standing helplessly before a child trying to invent some 
way of wheedling it into obeying, while the child daily 
grows more self-willed, and early learns to despise the 
authority he has never been made to respect. 

A keen observer of children gives it as his opinion 
that " The first six months of a child's life shapes him 



TRAINING CHILDREN. 21? 

more than any subsequent six months; and his treat- 
ment in that period has a vast deal to do with the ease 
of all his future shaping in both spirit and conduct. 
In the first two years of his life, a child learns more 
than in all the rest of his life put together; more that 
is indispensable to him in life; more that goes to de- 
cide his place among others. By the time he is seven, 
it is pretty well settled how much of a child's original 
self is to be preserved in his personality, and how far 
he is to be conformed in likeness to the people about 
him. Commonly a child's character and future are 
mainly shaped, or directed, for all time, before he has 
passed seven years of age." 

" Children, 1 ' says Joubert ''have more need of mod- 
els than of critics." How important it is, then, that 
during these first, most impressionable years of a child's 
life, it should be in the care of those only whose influ- 
nece and example are blameless. 

Some one has related an incident in the life of John 
Quincy Adams, which shows at what an early age his 
mother laid the foundation of his sterling: character: 
" Not long before the death of Mr. Adams a gentle- 
man said to him, 'I have found out who made you.' 
1 What do you mean?' asked Mr. iVdams. The 
gentleman replied, ' I have been reading the published 
letters of your mother.' ' If,' this gentleman remarks, 
4 1 had spoken that dear name to some little boy, who 
had been for weeks away from his mother, his eyes 
would not have flashed more brightly nor his face 



2l8 TRAINING CHILDREN. 

glowed more quickly, than did the eyes of that vener- 
able old man when I pronounced the name of his 
mother. He stood up in his peculiar manner and said, 
4 Yes, sir; all that is good in me I owe to my 
mother.' " 

Parental influence is one of the most important ele- 
ments in the formation of the child's character. An 
able essayist has truly said: u The spirit which his 
parents display toward one another, or toward their 
servants, or toward those with whom they are least on 
their guard, is a far more impressive pattern to the 
child than the model spirit described by the parent on 
a Sunday afternoon or a bed-time religious talk with 
the child. What the child is permitted to do, at the 
table or away from it, when the family is all by itself, 
is more likely to stand out in the child's conduct when 
visitors are there, than the company manners which 
were enjoined on the child most faithfully and repeat- 
edly while he was being washed and dressed for the 
occasion. Habits of thought, standards of conduct, 
rules of taste, purposes of life, are given or promoted 
in the work of child shaping at home, by example 
rather than by precept ; unconsciously more often than 
by design.*'' 

Said the mother of aiarge, well-ordered family: " I 
never fret about little faults of manner, nor even about 
transient irritability in my children. Children, as they 
are growing up, go through many temporary condi- 
tions which, if apparently unnoticed, pass away. In 



TRAINING CHILDREN. 2ig 

fact, there are little moral disturbances to be expected, 
like whooping cough and measles in physical life, and 
if the general home atmosphere be wholesome and the 
trend right, I do not think it worth while to be too 
much distressed over occasional naughtiness/' 

Another home educator makes these sensible sug- 
gestions: "Let the children learn by experience in 
the loving atmosphere of home without fear of harsh 
criticisms or fault-finding. Home is the place for exper- 
iment and failure as well as for success, for sympathy 
and encouragement quite as much as for discipline. 
Guide their unsteady feet, but sometimes let them go 
alone, even though they may fall. Then pick up the 
little stumblers; but beware of blaming them, or 
laughing at their childish mistakes. A thoughtless 
laugh may rankle in the heart of a sensitive child for 
months — may never be wholly forgotten. 1 ' 

A great mistake is often made in confiding the care 
and management of children to those who are guided 
only by mercenary motives. The great responsibility 
of training children cannot be delegated by the parent, 
however wise and judicious the instructor whom they 
may select. 

The first school of the child is in the home, and the 
child has the right to the personal supervision of the 
parents as its first teachers. How efficient and lasting 
such an influence may be, is thus attested by a prison 
chaplain of wide observation. He says: "The last 
thing: forgotten in all the recklessness of dissolute 



220 TRAINING CHILDREN. 

profligacy, is the prayer or rrymn taught by a 
mother's lips, or uttered at a father's knee; and when 
there seems to have been any pains bestowed even by 
one parent to train up a child aright, there is in general 
more than ordinary ground for hope." 

But it is the duty and privilege of the parents, not 
only by their own blameless life and example, and by 
every means in their power, to build up a good char- 
acter in their children, but also to stimulate and direct 
their intellectual life. A lover of children has said: 
" Children hunger perpetually for new ideas. They 
will learn with pleasure from the lips of their parents 
what they deem it drudgery to study in books ; and 
even if they have the misfortune to be deprived of 
many educational advantages, they will grow up intel- 
ligent if they enjoy in childhood the privilege of listen- 
ing daily to the conversation of intelligent people. 
We sometimes see parents, who are the life of every 
company which they enter, dull, silent and uninterest- 
ing at home among their own children. If they have 
not mental activity and mental stores sufficient for 
both, let them first use what they have for their own 
household. A silent house is a dull place for young 
people, a place from which they will escape if they can. 
How much useful information, on the other hand, is 
often given in pleasant family conversation, and what 
unconscious, but excellent mental training in lively 
social argument. Cultivate, to the utmost, all the 
graces of home conversation," 



TRAINING CHILDREN. 221 

The mother of several wide-awake boys thus tells 
how she makes home attractive to them: " I remem- 
ber that children are children, and must have amuse- 
ments. I fear that the abhorrence with which some 
good parents regard any play for children is the reason 
why children go away for pleasure. 

u Husband and I used to read history, and at the 
end of each chapter ask some questions, requiring the 
answer to be looked up if not given directly. 

" We follow a similar plan with the children; some- 
times we play one game and sometimes another, 
always planning with books, stories, plays, or treats of 
some kind, to make the evenings at home more attrac- 
tive than they can be made abroad. 

" When there is a good concert, lecture or entertain- 
ment, we all go together to enjoy it; for whatever is 
worth the price of admission to us older people is 
equally valuable to the children, and we let them see 
that we spare no expense where it is to their advantage 
to be out of an evening. 

" But the greater number of our evenings are spent 
quietly at home. Sometimes it requires quite an effort 
to sit quietly, talking and playing with them, when my 
work-basket is filled with unfinished work, and books 
and papers lie unread on the table. 

" But as the years go by, and I see my boys and 
girls growing into home-loving, modest young men 
and maidens, I am glad that I made it my rule to give 
the best of myself to my family." 



222 TRAINING CHILDREN. 

Henry Ward Beecher uttered these words of warn- 
ing to parents, which, if heeded, would save many a 
home from darkness and disgrace : "If you want to 
make the ruin of a child sure, give him liberty after 
dark. You can not do anything nearer to insure his 
damnation than to let him have liberty to go where 
he will without restraint. After dark he will be sure 
to get into communication with people that will un- 
dermine all his good qualities. Nineteen out of every 
twenty allowed perfect freedom by night will be 
wounded by it. There is nothing more important 
than for a child to be at home at night, or, if he is 
abroad, you should be with him. If he is to see any 
sights, or take any pleasure, there is nothing that he 
should see that you should not see with him. It is not 
merely that the child should be broken down, but 
there are thoughts that never ought to find a passage 
into a man's brain. As an eel, if he wriggle across 
your carpet, will leave his slime which no brushing can 
ever efface, so there are thoughts that never can be 
got rid of, once permitted to enter; and there are in- 
dividuals going round with obscene books and pictures 
under the lappels of their coats that will leave ideas in 
the mind of your child that will never be effaced. I 
don't believe in a child seeing life, as it is called, with 
its damnable lust and wickedness, to have all his im- 
agination set fire with the flames of hell. Nobody 
goes through this fire but they are burned, burned, 
burned; and they can't get rid of the scars." 



TRAINING CHILDREN. 223 

The spirit of the home should be kindness. A re 
cent writer has made some excellent suggestions to 
parents on this point — particularly as employed in their 
methods of home instruction. " Kindness is the lever 
by whose power the machinery of intellectual progress 
should be kept in motion. Approval following success 
is of far greater efficacy, as a stimulus to further 
efforts, than severity on failure. The little triumphs 
and successes of the young mind should never be in- 
differently passed over without a token of just and fit- 
ting praise from the parent's lips. The love of appro- 
bation is one of the strongest incentives to improve- 
ment and industry which the Creator has implanted in 
the human mind. In the child, this feeling is very 
predominant; and if disappointed of its justly-earned 
tribute, will be checked, and the child disheartened 
and mortified. Praise, then, when merited, should 
never be withheld. It is the chief, indeed generally 
the only, recompense for which children look ; and it is 
a bitter and injudicious cruelty to deprive them of it. 
The approval and the censure of its parents and 
teachers should be the guiding stars of a child's exist- 
ence." 

Washington Irving, in a description of one of his in- 
imitable characters, says: " It was the policy of the 
good old gentleman to make his children feel that 
home was the happiest place in the world; and I value 
this delicious home feeling as one of the choicest gifts 
a parent can bestow." 



224 



TRAINING CHILDREN. 



Another writer has beautifully said: " It takes but 
little to give a child pleasure, and the longest life is 
not long enough to banish the recollection. Remem 
ber the happiness of your own childhood, and ask your 
self what earth contains that could purchase from you 
the blessed memory of those golden days. Then store 
the children's minds with happy memories while you 
may. Soon, too soon, their childhood days will be 
past, and your loved ones must go out into their several 
ways to meet their share of life's stern discipline. 
Happy will it be for them if, amid all their perplexing 
duties, disappointments, joys and sorrows, they may 
carry with them the cherished memory of a happy 
childhood. And happy will it be for you if in their 
young, impressible years, you have forged a chain of 
love to bind their hearts to yours — a chain so strong 
that time cannot rust, life cannot sever, and death can 
only strengthen." 




Be I(ihd. 




mk$ 



J NE of the great needs of the world is more 
kindness, — the pure, natural, unaffected kind- 
ness of the heart. There are multitudes of 
people who are surrounded by all the com- 
forts that wealth can bestow, and yet they carry with 
them hearts empty and starving for the simple kind- 
nesses of life, and would gladly exchange their pre- 
tentious grandeur for poverty and its grim bareness, 
if it could be cheered by the sunshine and kindness of 
love. How many there are of good, true men and 
women who carry with them into their families and 
society an icy, reserved manner, which chills every 
circle they enter, and repels all who come in contact 
with them, unless by some chance discovery their bet- 
ter nature is revealed. Such people seem to look upon 
the joyous demonstrations of an impulsive nature as if 
they were crimes. These are they who make churches 
formal, congregations hypocritical, social gatherings 
cold and ceremonious, communities suspicious and 
fault finding, and themselves most miserable. It has 
been wittily remarked on this subject that the " man 
who stirs his cup of tea with an icicle, spoils the tea, 
and chills his own fingers. V/ 

A group of children, in their careless play, might 

225 



226 BE KIND. 

furnish more practical wisdom on this subject than all 
the store of wise maxims and worldly etiquette. 

Said a mother to her little daughter who had found 
anew playmate: " How did you come to know her 
so soon?" "Why," said the little girl, " we saw each 
other, and I smiled at her, and she smiled at me, and 
then we were acquainted." 

Without ignoring those formalities of etiquette which 
are necessary for the protection and well-being of 
society, would not the world be far better if we had 
more of the simplicity and ingenuousness of childhood 
blended with our mature thoughtfulness and reserve? 
The truth is, many good people are ashamed to show 
the kindness they feel. They imagine it would indi- 
cate weakness and lack of dignity to weep with those 
who weep, and rejoice w r ith them that rejoice, except 
in a very conventional manner. They entirely over- 
look the estimate in which the better part of the world 
holds kind words and actions. That daring sportsman, 
who, in the wilds of India, shot one of a pair of cranes, 
and saw the other one exhibit such grief and affection at 
the loss of its mate, that he stood overwhelmed with 
shame and grief ; and threw his gun into a pool as an 
atonement for his cruelty, exhibited a feeling of ten- 
derness and humanity that did him far more honor 
than all the trophies of his venturous daring in forest 
and field. 

Who can estimate the influence of a kind act? It 
may affect an entire life, or save a soul. Some one 



BE KIND. 227 

has truly said, " Blessed is he who gives joy even to a 
child, for he does not know where it will end." 

There is a story told of the once famous editor of 
the London Punch, Douglas Jerrold, that when he was 
a little, barefooted bcfy, in his native village, he was 
one Sunday morning leaning over the fence before a 
wood cutter's cot, admiring some beautiful flowers. 
The wood cutter, seeing him, came out, plucked some of 
the most lovely ones and gave to Kim, neither of them 
saying a word; but Jerrold went home, his heart full of 
delight and gratitude, and who can tell how often the 
memory of that simple act of kindness cheered and 
softened his heart in the busy, prosperous after years? 

Gladstone, the great English statesman and brilliant 
writer, when he visited a poor, sick boy, whom he 
knew from seeing him sweep the street crossings, en- 
deared himself to the heart of the people more than by 
his ablest speech or most astute statesmanship. 

That intrepid Arctic explorer, Sir John Franklin, 
though brave enough to face death in a thousand hid- 
eous forms, had yet such a kind heart that one of his 
men said of him that he would never kill a fly, and 
though teased by them beyond expression when tak- 
ing observations, or performing other duties, he would 
quietly desist from his work and blow the half-gorged 
intruders from his hands, saying that the world was 
wide enough for both. 

Even the savage breast responds to the power of 
kindness. When the explorer. Captain Ross, in his 



22$ £E KIND* 

perilous journeyings, met with a hostile band of Esqui 
maux, who threatened to attack his party, the brave 
commander made gestures of friendship, and gave 
salutations of peace, and soon the savages tossed away 
their knives and spears, and extended their hands, 
manifesting their gratification by laughter and strange 
gesticulations. 

Some one has said: "The door between us and 
heaven cannot be opened, if that between us and our 
fellow men be shut.' 7 So that it is a part of our prepar- 
ation for heaven that we should cultivate a kindly 
spirit while on earth, and be seeking opportunities to 
do good and scatter blessings. 

Be kind to the young, for the trials of life are before 
them, and in their hours of struggle and discourage- 
ment, how much they will be cheered by the bright 
memories of past kindnesses. Be kind to the middle- 
aged, who are carrying the burdens of life in the heat 
of the day, for sore is their need of the all-soothing 
influences to lessen the friction of their ceaseless toil 
and anxiety. Above all, be kind to the aged, — those 
who have struggled on amid the storms of life until 
they have grown weary, and long, as they approach 
the haven of repose, to feel that calm skies are above 
them, and the sunshine of kindly natures about them. 
Remember that the years are fast bringing nearer the 
time when you, too, shall stoop beneath the burdens of 
age, your pulse be slow, and your step feeble, and then 
how grateful to you will be those little attentions and 



BE KIND. 229 

kind offices which it is now in your power to bestow 
on others. 

Be kind, because you will pass through this world 
but once, and neglected opportunities will not come 
back to you, even should you recall them with floods 
of repentant tears. Be kind, in mercy to yourself, for 
every kind word that you utter, every kind deed that 
you do, will help to fill your own heart with gladness, 
and will afford you such unutterable satisfaction as the 
wealth of a Crcesus could not buy, nor the dreams of 
ambition attain. 

Every heart hath its own sorrow and knows its own 
bitterness, and if we could look into its unexplored 
depths, and know how heavy is the weight of woe 
ofttimes hidden from human eyes, we should judge 
differently of those infirmities of conduct which now 
so vex us, and should be filled with a God-like charity 
which would make our lives fruitful of kindly deeds. 




Kindness mo ^nimals, 




)AYS the gentle Cowper, the poet of 

humanity : 

" I would not enter on my list of friends, 
(Though graced with polished manners and 

fine sense, 
Yet wanting sensibility), the man 
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm." 

There is something, even in the thought of torturing 
a dumb creature, which is inexpressibly revolting. It 
cannot explain or reason or expostulate, and if it 
shows any insistence to the fury of the human brute 
inflicting the injury, the cruelty is redoubled, and the 
outrage prolonged and aggravated. Man is placed on 
the earth to have dominion over all things; but this 
power is a trust, and like all other trusts, a day of 
reckoning will come in which an account must be ren- 
dered by man of all that is committed to him. The 
cruel persons who use this power to inflict needless 
pain on the dumb creatures under their charge, can 
but reasonably expect that u what measure they meet, 
shall be measured to them again. 1 ' There is another 
important phase of this subject to be considered, and 
that is, the waste and loss incurred by cruelty to 

animals. Thousands of people make themselves 

230 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 23 1 

poorer from this cause, and richly deserve it. A 
teamster or expressman has his capital in his team; 
but from overloading, want of proper care and feeding, 
or from cruel violence, he incapacitates it for work, and 
a heavy loss is the result. The farmer leaves his stock 
without shelter, or starves, or overworks them, and so 
loses a horse in the busy season, or a cow when his 
family need it, and suffers a loss which weeks of hard 
work will not replace. The cruel man thus finds a 
speedy retribution for his brutality in its result to his 
pocket. It pays to be merciful, as it pays to do what 
is right in all things. A man who is truly just and 
merciful will carry out the principle of justice and 
mercy wherever he is, and will be considerate of the 
comfort of everything in his keeping. 

Rowland Hill said he would not give anything for a 
man's Christianity whose horse could not perceive a 
difference in him. 

Said Sir Matthew Hale, Lord Chief Justice of Eng- 
land: " I have always esteemed it a part of my duty 
to be merciful to my beasts, and it has always been 
my practice." 

Channing, the gifted divine, thus relates an event in 
his childhood which influenced his whole life: 
" Thanks to my stars, I can say I have never killed a 
bird. I would not crush the meanest insect that 
crawls upon the ground. They have the same right 
to life that I have; they received it from the same 
Father, and I will not mar the works of God by wanton 



232 KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 

cruelty. I can remember an incident in my childhood, 
which has given a turn to my whole life and character. 
I found a nest of birds in my father's field, which held 
four young ones. They had no down when I first dis- 
covered them. They opened their little mouths as if 
they were hungry, and I gave them some crumbs 
which were in my pocket. Every day I returned to 
feed them. As soon as school was done, I would run 
home for some bread, and sit by the nest to see them 
eat, for an hour at a time. They were now feathered 
and almost ready to fly. When I came one morning 
I found them all cut up into quarters. The grass 
round the nest was red with blood. The little limbs 
were raw and bloody. The mother was on the tree 
and the father on the wall, mourning for their young." 
Sir Walter Scott and Charles Dickens were passion- 
ately fond of their dogs, and Bayard Taylor, in his 
beautiful poem, " The Arab to his Horse," reveals his 
kindness of heart for animals. He once related this 
incident: " A distinguished English poet told me that 
he was once walking in the country with Canon Kings- 
ley, when they passed a lodge where an immense and 
fierce mastiff, confined by a long chain, rushed out 
upon him. They were just beyond his reach, but the 
chain did not seem secure; the poet would have hur- 
ried past, but Kingsley, laying a hand upon his arm, 
said: 'Wait a moment and see me subdue him!' 
Thereupon he walked up to the dog, who, erect upon 
his hind feet with open jaws and glaring eyes, was the^ 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 233 

embodiment of animal fury. Kingsley lifted his hand, 
and quietly said: l You have made a mistake; you 
must go back to your kennel!' The dog sank down 
upon his fore feet, but still growled angrily; the canon 
repeated his words in a firm voice, advancing step by 
step as the dog gave way. He continued speaking 
grave reproof, as to a human being, until he had forced 
the mastiff back into his kennel, where the latter 
silently, and, perhaps, remorsefully, lay down." 

Would that all mothers would display the same 
wisdom in the early training of their children as did 
the mother of Theodore Parker. He thus speaks of 
his boyhood, and the precious lesson of mercy that was 
taught him. He says: " I saw a little spotted turtle 
sunning himself in the shallow water. I lifted the stick 
in my hand to kill the harmless reptile; for though I 
had never killed any creature, yet I had seen other 
boys, out of sport, destroy birds, squirrels, and the 
like, and I had a disposition to follow their wicked 
example; but all at once something checked my little 
arm, and a voice within me said, clear and loud ? ' It 
is wrong.' I held my uplifted stick in wonder at the 
new emotion, till the turtle had vanished from sight. 
I hastened home and told the tale to my mother, 
and asked what it was that told me it was wronof. 
She wiped a tear from her eye with her apron, and 
taking me in her arms, said: ' Some men call it con- 
science, but I prefer to call it the voice of God in the 
soul of man. If you listen and obey, it will speak 



234 KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 

clearer and clearer, and always guide you right; but 
if you turn a deaf ear, or disobey, then it will fade out, 
little by little, and leave you all in the dark without a 
guide. Your life depends, my boy, on heeding that lit- 
tle voice? " 

What an example is this for those careless mothers 
who, without intending to be cruel, see their children 
inflict the most brutal torments on dumb animals, 
without so much as lifting their voice in reproof or 
displeasure. Think you that it is by chance that the 
bosoms of those mothers are often torn with anguish 
at the cruel heartlessness of those children in later 
years, which had its first development and growth in 
their cruelty to animals? 

Read this graphic scene of one hundred and fifty 
years ago, drawn by the gifted pen of Eugene Sue, 
and appalling as it is, it is equaled by the brutal feroc- 
ity of the cruel men of to-day. He writes: u The 
winter of 1732 was very cold. The pavements became 
very slippery by the frost, and did not present any 
hold for the horses' feet; and one of these animals, 
harnessed to a large cart heavily laden with wood, was 
utterly unable to advance a step forward, while the 
carter, a powerful fellow, was belaboring the poor 
brute with his heavy whip, striking him over the head 
with relentless ferocity. Breathless, and struggling 
violently, the poor horse was so exhausted by his con- 
tinued and severe efforts, that, in spite of the cold, he 
was covered with sweat and foam. Now, throwing 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 235 

himself into his collar with desperate exertion, he 
tugged so that the stones beneath his feet threw out 
sparks of fire; now, far from being discouraged, he 
backed a few paces to take breath, and again tried, 
but in vain, to draw his load. Twice did he nearly 
fall, — his knees touched the pavement; the carter raised 
him by the bit, leaving the mouth of the animal raw 
and bleeding. A third time, after a violent effort, he 
fell on his knees, one leg entangled beneath him; he 
could not recover himself, but fell on his side, where 
he lay trembling, bathed in sweat, and his eyes fixed 
on his brutal owner. The rage of his master then 
knew no bounds ; and after breaking his whip over the 
head of the horse, who, kept down by the shafts, lay 
groaning on the stones, he began kicking the unfortu- 
nate animal on the nostrils. The spectators of this 
cruel sight looked on with apathy. The fellow, find- 
ing the horse did not move, took a bundle of straw, 
twisted it in the form of a torch, and, taking a match 
from his pocket, said, Til roast him; pVaps that'll 
make him get up.' At this moment a Quaker stopped, 
and pushed his way among the crowd. When he saw 
the carter go toward the fallen horse, with the inten- 
tion of applying the blazing straw to his body, a shud- 
der ran through his frame, and his countenance 
expressed the utmost compassion. Unable for a 
moment to endure this scene, the Quaker approached 
the carter and took him by the arm, who turned with 
a menacing look as he shook the torch. ' Friend,' 



236 KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 

said the Quaker, in a calm tone, showing the carter 
fifteen louts cPor, which he held in his hand, ' Wilt thou 
sell me thy horse for this gold ? ' c What do ye say ? ' 
inquired the carter; ' will ye give me that sum for the 
brute? ' and stamped out the light beneath his feet. 
' Fifteen louisj said the Quaker. i But why should ye 
buy the horse ? ' ' That is nothing to thee. If thou 
sellest thy horse, thee must unload thy cart, unharness 
the horse and assist him to rise.' ' Is the gold good? ' 
'Take it to the nearest shop and inquire."' The carter 
soon returned, saying, ' It is a bargain.' 'Then unshackle 
the poor horse, for he is crushed by the weight of his bur- 
den.' The by-slanders lent their aid to free the horse. 
The poor animal was bleeding in many places; and, 
such was his terror of the carter, that he trembled at his 
approach. l But I cannot tell why you bought the old 
brute, said the carter. ' / can tell thee / it was to free 
him from thy cruelty that I bought him] replied 
the Quaker." 

Blessings on the noble souls who, like the Quaker, 
are ready with their voices, their sympathy and their 
purses, to take the part of those unhappy creatures 
who cannot plead for themselves. Prof. David Swing 
uttered these brave words: "It ill becomes us to 
inflict tortures upon the helpless man or the helpless 
brute. We can not do this and still claim any of the 
honors of true manhood. Let us see our world in ever 
newer and fairer colors. Why are we here unless we 
can make our race better by our sojourn? Let us 



KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 237 

break up these hiding-places of cruelty with which 
our earth abounds. Let us, if possible, unite love and 
mercy in the streets where our dumb brutes toil; let 
us teach better the man whose ear can draw music 
from a whip; let us write mercy in the woods where 
the wild deer runs, mercy in the air where our birds 
fly, and along the city streets, where the tempter has 
held a sway too terrible and too long. When a cruel 
driver lashes his horse, it is not a mere incident of the 
hour not worthy of your notice ; it is a link in a chain 
which binds you and me to all the monsters of the 
black past, to the Romans who exposed their infants 
to the beasts of the woods, to those tribes in the desert 
which cut a steak from an ox without killing the ox, 
and if we do not break this chain by action and pro- 
test it will bind us forever to this long ancestry of 
shocking deeds. It is high time for us to ponder upon 
these things, and to wash our hands from this form of 
guilt, and from all indifference to this form of human 
error and vice. 77 

That noble apostle of the gospel of mercy, George 
T. Angell, who has devoted his life to this noble work, 
thus calls for the aid and co-operation of all those who 
have a spark of mercy in their natures: "When you 
see boys robbing birds 7 nests or stoning birds, or squir- 
rels, or other harmless animals, or shooting them, or 
catching, . destroying or tormenting them, tell such 
boys that all these have their mates and companions 
just as we have, and feel pain as we do, and are per- 



238 KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. 

haps as fond of life and liberty as we are, and were all 
created and put here for useful purposes ; and ask them 
what fun there can be in killing or wounding them or 
making them suffer. Ask them whether it is brave 
to torment the weak ; whether it would not be nobler 
and more honorable to protect, and more pleasing to 
our Father in Heaven, who created and cares for them 
all? And the larger animals, you will have many 
chances of doing them good. Feed them; give them 
water; speak kindly to them; try to make them happy, 
and see how grateful they will be, and how much they 
will love you for it, and how happy it will make you to 
see them happy. My young friends, every kind act 
you can do for the weak and defenceless, and every 
kind nvord you say to them, will make you happier, 
nobler, and better; all good people will love you and 
respect you the more for it, and as your bodies grow, 
your hearts will grow larger and richer, to bless the 
world." 

Such words are worthy to be treasured up in every 
heart, and in every home. 




<9HE SEG^EJP OR A P7APPY LflFE. 




R. NOTT, the venerable President of Union 
College, once took a newly married pair 
aside and said: " I want to give you this 
advice, my children, — don't try to be happy. 
Happiness is a shy nymph, and if you chase her you 
will never catch her. But just go on quietly, and do 
your duty, and she will come to you." These few 
plain words contain more real wisdom than years of 
moralizings, or whole volumes of metaphysical vagar- 
ies. It is a great truth, often forgotten, and still 
oftener unheeded, that those who make happiness a 
pursuit, generally have a fruitless chase. 

Madame Recamier, one of the most fascinating 
queens of French society, with every surrounding 
seemingly favorable to the highest earthly happiness, 
from the calm, still depths of her heart wrote to her 
niece: "I am here in the center of fetes, princesses, 
illuminations, spectacles. Two of my windows face 
the ballroom, the other two the theater. Amidst this 
clatter I am in perfect solitude. I sit and muse on 
the shore of the ocean. I go over all the sad and 
joyous circumstances of my life. I hope that you will 
be happier than I have been."" 

239 



240 THE SECRET OF A HAPPY LIFE. 

Lord Chesterfield, whose courtly manners and varied 
accomplishments made him a particular favorite in the 
highest society of his day, after a life of pleasure thus 
sums up the results: " I have run the silly rounds of 
pleasure, and have done with them all. I have en- 
joyed all the pleasures of the world; I appraise them 
at their real worth, which is, in truth, very low. Those 
who have only seen their outsides, always overrate 
them; but I have been behind the scenes. When I 
reflect on what I have seen, what I have heard, and 
what I have done, I can hardly persuade myself that 
all that frivolous hurry and bustle of pleasure in the 
world had any reality; but I look upon all that is past 
as one of those romantic dreams which opium com 
monly occasions: and I do by no means desire to re- 
peat the nauseous dose." 

A man in great depression of spirits once consulted 
a London physician as to how he could regain his 
health and cheerfulness. Matthews, the noted come- 
dian, was then convulsing great crowds by his wit and 
drollery, and the physician advised his melancholy pa 
tient to go to hear him. u Ah," said the gloomy 
man, " I am Matthews." And so, while he was amus 
ing thousands by his apparent gayety and overflow of 
spirits, his own heart was suffering from the canker of 
despair. 

After the death ot a powerful caliph of a Spanish 
province, a paper in his handwriting was found ; on 
which were these words: " Fifty years have elapsed 



The secret of a happy life. 241 

since I became caliph. I have possessed riches, hon- 
ors, pleasures, friends, — in short, everything that man 
can desire in this world. I have reckoned up the days 
in which I could say I was really happy, and they 
amount to fourteen." 

Madame De Pompadour, who possessed such bound- 
less influence over the king of France, and for a time 
swayed the destinies of that country, thus discloses 
her misery even in the plenitude of her power, and at 
the full height of her dazzling career: " What a situ- 
ation is that of the great ! They only live in the fu- 
ture, and are only happy in hope. There is no peace 
in ambition; it is always gloomy, and often unreason- 
ably so. The kindness of the king, the regards of the 
courtiers, the attachment of my domestics, and the 
fidelity of a large number of friends, make me happy 
no longer. 1 ' Then, after stating that she is weary 
of, and cannot endure, her magnificent furniture and 
residences, she adds; " In a word, I do not live; I am 
dead before my time. I have no interest in the world. 
Every thing conspires to embitter my life." The re- 
morse of an outraged conscience could not be assuaged 
by any display of worldly splendor. 

. On the monument of a once powerful pope is en- 
graved by his order, these words: " Here lies Adrian 
VI., who was never so unhappy in any period of his 
life as that in which he was a prince. 17 

Edmund Burke, after attaining the most exalted 
position as an orator and statesman, said that he. would 



242 THE SECRET OF A HAPPY LIFE. 

not give one peck of refuse wheat for all that is called 
fame in this world. Byron, after making the whole 
earth ring with the music of his measures, confessed 
that his life had been passed in wretchedness, and that 
he longed to rush into the thickest of the .battle, that 
he might end his miserable existence by a sudden 
death. Rothschild and Girard, both possessing mil- 
lions, were wretched men, living and toiling like gal- 
ley-slaves, and knew nothing of that happiness which, 
like the sunshine, brightens and cheers everything. 

Some one has happily defined happiness as a the re- 
sult of harmonious powers, steadily bent on pursuits 
that seek a worthy end. It is not the lazy man's 
dower, nor sensualists' privilege. It is reserved for 
the worker, and can never be grasped and held save 
by true manhood and womanhood." 

A great deal of the unhappiness in the world is 
caused by want of proper occupation. The mind is 
incessantly active, and if not occupied with something 
more worthy it will prey upon itself. It is one of the 
greatest misfortunes in life to be without a purpose; 
to drift hither and thither, at the mercy of every whim 
or impulse. 

How many there are, like a certain wealthy French 
gentleman of taste and culture, who had read much 
and traveled much, but, having no high aim in life, 
became surfeited with worldly pleasure, and grew 
weary of existence. He said: " I am at a loss what to 
do. I know not where to go or what to see that I am 



THE SECRET OF A HAPPY LIFE. 243 

not already acquainted with. There is nothing new 
to sharpen my curiosity, or stimulate me to exertion. 
I am sated. Life to me has exhausted its charms. 
The world has no new face to me, nor can it open any 
new prospect to my view." 

A noble purpose is the cure for such disorders of 
the mind, and no better advice could be given than 
that which the poet Rogers gave to Lady Holland, 
whose life was almost intolerable from ennui: " Try to 
do a little good." 

Sir William Jones, himself a prodigy of industry, in 
speaking of the necessity of labor, said: " I apprehend 
there is not a more miserable, as well as more worth- 
less being than a young man of fortune, who has 
nothing to do but to find some new way of doing 
nothing." 

Many who have gained distinction have declared 
that the happiest period of their lives was when they 
were struggling with poverty, and working with all 
their might to raise themselves above it. 

William Chambers, the famous publisher, of Edin- 
burgh, when speaking of the labor of his early days, 
says: " I look back to those times with great pleasure, 
and I am almost sorry that I have not to go through 
the same experience again; for I reaped more pleasure 
when I had not a sixpence in my pocket, studying in 
a garret in Edinburgh, than I now find when sitting 
amid all the elegancies and comforts of a parlor." 

But happiness demands not only that our powers 



244 THE SECRET OF A HAPPY LIFE. 

shall be worthily employed, but that we shall be actu- 
ated by a generous and unselfish spirit. There is 
nothing so bracing as to live outside of one's self; to be 
in some way the means of making brighter and happier 
the lives of others. We know little of true enjoyment 
unless we have spoken kind words of encouragement 
to those in distress, or lent a helping hand in time of 
trouble. 

A gentleman was once asked: " What action gave 
you the greatest pleasure in life?" He replied: " When 
I stopped the sale of a poor widow's furniture, by pay- 
ing a small sum due by her for rent, and received her 
blessing" 

Happiness may be found in the line of duty, no mat- 
ter where the way leads. 

Many have been the attempts to correctly define 
happiness. Varrow made note of two hundred and 
eighty different opinions, but the secret is one of the 
heart, and not of the intellect. A clear conscience, a 
kind heart, and a worthy aim, will do much toward 
making life a perpetual feast of joy ; but this feast will 
be made up of a succession of small pleasures, which 
flow from the round of our daily duties as sparkling 
ripples from a fountain. 

" Happiness," says a writer, u is a mosaic, composed 
of many smaller stones. Each, taken apart and viewed 
singly, may be of little value; but when all are grouped 
together, and judiciously combined and set, they form 
a pleasing and graceful whole, — a costly jewel." 



THE SECRET OF A HAPPY LIFE. 245 

The kind words we speak will be echoed back to us 
from the lips of others, and the good that we do will 
be as seed sown in good ground, bringing forth an 
hundred fold. 

" An Italian bishop, who had struggled through 
many difficulties, was asked the secret of his always 
being so happy. He replied : ' In whatever state I 
am, I first of all look up to heaven, and remember that 
my great business is to get there. I then look down 
upon the earth, and call to mind how small a space I 
shall soon fill in it. I then look abroad in the world, 
and see what multitudes are in all respects less happy 
than myself. And then I learn where true happiness 
is placed, where all my cares must end, and how little 
reason I ever have to murmur or to be otherwise than 
thankful. 1 " 

True happiness, then, which defies all change of time 
and circumstances, and is perfect and unalloyed, can 
be found only in that source of all goodness — God 
himself. 




Lxoyb of the Beautiful. 




,HE world is full of beauty. It is everywhere 
lavished without stint. In the shifting pano- 
rama of cloud-land ; in gorgeous sunsets ; in 
the bewildering loveliness of flower-strewn 
fields ; in sparkling cascade ; in silvery stream ; in 
majestic ocean, and towering mountains, — all above, 
around and beneath us, the earth, and air, and sea are 
rilled with ten thousand forms of beauty. In response 
to them the love of beauty is implanted in our nature, 
to awaken our finer feelings, and to raise our minds to 
exalted heights of rapture and adoration. What a 
wondrously rare world is this to one who sees it aright ; 
what ceaseless pleasure is afforded in beholding its per- 
petual succession of shifting scenes. Said a blind girl, 
who suddenly received her sight, and saw for the first 
time the outer world, " Why did you not tell me before 
how beautiful the sky, and trees, and grass, and flowers 
were? " and she trembled in a transport of delight as the 
sight surpassed all the impressions that language had 
conveyed to her. There are multitudes of people who 
have no more conception of the beauty about them, 
than had this blind girl with her darkened vision; and 
they plod on through life, missing the exquisite delight 
which might be theirs, if the love of the beautiful were 

awakened and developed in them. 

246 



LOVE OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 2Afl 

Some one has said, " Place a young girl under the 
care of a kindhearted, graceful woman, and she, uncon- 
sciously to herself, grows into a graceful lady. Teach 
your children to love the beautiful. If you are able, 
give them a corner in the garden for flowers; allow 
them to have their favorite trees; teach them to 
wander in the prettiest woodlets; show them where 
they can best view the sunset; rouse them in the 
morning to view the beautiful sunrise." We are prone 
to make our lives too commonplace and monotonous, 
and to plod in a matter-of-fact way, forgetting that 
there is anything higher than our every day tasks. In 
this condition we only half live; our eyes are not lifted 
from the dead level of mere existence, and our hearts 
are strangers to the refined enjoyments which might 
be ours. 

O, cherish a love for the beautiful, for often our 
spirits are so vexed with the cares and perplexities of 
life, that we need something to raise our minds above 
them, and cause us to forget ourselves. 

" God might have made the earth bring forth 

Enough for great and small; 
The oak tree and the cedar tree 

Without a flower at all. 

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, 

All decked in rainbow light, 
All fashioned with supremest grace, 

Up-springing day and night? 

To comfort man, — to whisper hope, 

Whene'er his faith is dim 
For whoso careth for the flowers 

Will much more care for him." 



I?ow mo be Beautiful. 




ROM time immemorial, in all climes and 
among all peoples, there have been arts of 
beauty. The wish to look well is an inher- 
ent part of our nature, and, confined within due limits, 
it is a laudable desire. There is an art of beauty 
which is too much overlooked because it is so easy 
and practical to obtain; but it will survive all the 
fountains of youth, the charms, lotions and other nos- 
trums which have ever been invented to delude and 
disappoint the multitudes who sought them. This 
art does not consist of mysterious compounds or arti- 
ficial disguises, but is based on a few simple, natural 
laws of life. One of the conditions of beauty is good 
health. There is something in the clear, ruddy com- 
plexion, the bright eye, the active movements and the 
flow of spirits which accompanies good health, which 
can never be obtained by recourse to artificial means. 
A writer, in commenting on Bayard Taylor's de- 
scription of the beauty of Polish women, truly says that 
there can be no true beauty without health, and there 
can be no permanent health in the future man or 
woman unless the child is properly cared for; that in 

Poland girls do not jump from infancy to young iady« 

248 



HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL. 249 

hood, but a period of childhood is recognized. They 
are not sent from the cradle to the parlor to sit still 
and look pretty; but during childhood, which extends 
through a period of several years, they are plainly and 
loosely dressed, allowed to run, romp and play in the 
open air, and to take in sunshine as do the flowers. 
They are not rendered delicate and dyspeptic by a 
diet of candies and sweetmeats, as are too many 
American children. Simple food, free and varied 
exercise, abundant sunshine and sleep during the 
whole period of childhood, lay the foundation for 
beauty in later life. A medical authority, speaking 
of the early loss of beauty among American women, 
attributes it to the fact that they are shut up in houses 
nine-tenths of their time, with either no exercise, or that 
which is of irksome sameness, and, as a consequence, 
they become unnaturally pale and delicate, their blood 
poorly organized and watery, their muscles weak and 
flaccid, and the force and functions of their body run 
low in the scale of life. English ladies of rank, who 
are celebrated for retaining their beauty to old age, 
think nothing of a walk of half a dozen miles, which 
our ladies would think impossible. 

Another element of beauty is bodily carriage. Many 
a fine face is marred by a stooping figure and awk- 
ward gait. But the highest quality of beauty is not 
merely in the regularity of features, the fairness of 
complexion, the gracefulness of movement, or the vigor 
qus condition of the body, but in what is called the 



250 HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL. 

" expression," — the soul which looks out from this 
mortal tenement. 

Some one has said that " there is nothing that so 
refines the face and mien as great thoughts," and who 
has not seen a positively homely face which has been 
lighted up and glorified by the nobility of soul which 
illumined it, until it became singularly attractive. 

A learned professor, who was also an acute observer, 
said: " I have come to the conclusion, that if man, or 
woman either, wishes to realize the full power of per- 
sonal beauty, it must be by cherishing noble hopes and 
purposes; by having something to do and something 
to live for which is worthy of humanity, and which, by 
expanding the capacities of the soul, gives expression 
and symmetry to the body which contains it."" One 
of the most gifted and powerful minds that this century 
has produced, has forcefully elaborated this thought by 
saying that he holds that the mind is continually im- 
pressing itself on the bod}^, and that gesture and atti- 
tude, and a thousand physical appearances, are the re- 
sult of mental processes within. The words used, the 
tones of the voice, the general expression of the face, 
the carriage and manners, are unquestionably made 
beautiful by the predominant influence in any one of 
noble thoughts, benevolent acts and a pure affection. 

A lady was wondering why a friend had lost his 
beauty, and the answer was : " O, 'tis because he never 
did anything. He never worked, thought or suffered. 
You must have the mind chiseling away at the features 



HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL. 25 I 

if you want handsome middle-aged men."" The lady 
who heard the remark said ; that since hearing it she 
had been watching to see if it were generally true, and 
she found it was, and further observed, " A handsome 
man who does nothing but eat and drink, grows flab- 
by, and the fine lines of his features are lost; but the 
hard thinker has an admirable sculptor at work keep- 
ing them in repair, and constantly going over his face 
to improve the original design," and the observation 
applies as well to women as to men. 

That great educator and noble character, Horace 
Mann, gave utterance to the following words on this 
subject: "Where minds live in the region of pure 
thoughts and happy emotions, the felicities and 
sanctities of the inner temple shine out through the 
mortal tenement, and play over it like lambent flame. 
The incense makes the whole altar sweet; and we can 
understand what the poet means when he says that 

" Beauty born of murmuring sound 
Shall pass into her face." 

On the other hand, no man can live a gormandizing, 
sordid or licentious life, and still wear a countenance 
hallowed and sanctified with a halo of peace and joy." 
Charles Kingsley, who had an extraordinary attach- 
ment for children, uttered this thought, which should be 
remembered by every parent and teacher: u Children 
can hardly be brought up among good works of art, or, I 
believe, among any fair sights and sounds, without the 
expression of their faces being softened and ennobled," 



252 HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL. 

and the same principle applies to children of a larger 
growth. We never outgrow the influence of our sur- 
roundings. 

In infancy the child's face is like a fair unwritten 
page ; but if brought up in squalor, seeing only unlovely 
sights, and its violent passion left to run riot without 
restraint, it soon becomes seared with evil, and covered 
with a moral repulsiveness which stamps itself upon 
the features; while those who are surrounded by pleas- 
ant and beautiful objects, who breathe an atmosphere 
of love, and whose passions are restrained and sub- 
dued, grow up with a pure and refined expression 
which becomes more and more strongly marked so 
long as they are subject to the same gracious influ- 
ences. The secret, then, of acquiring beauty consists 
in the judicious care of the body, the occupation of the 
mind by pure and lofty thoughts, and a spirit of love 
and gentleness, which is the crowning glory of all. 
When a fine poem is read, a part of its beauty and 
sublimity is transferred to the face of the reader. 
When a noble act is done, the moral grandeur of it is 
reflected in part in the countenance of him who per- 
forms it, and thus the joyous forces of life, the harmo- 
nious actions of the intellectual powers, and the lofty 
conceptions of the soul, are so many sculptors at work 
on the features, — refining and perfecting them as the 
years roll on, until they become beautiful as the soul 
within. 



(Dannei^s and Dj^ess. 




cp. 




^^^^^HILE it is true, as Thackeray observed, 
that " Nature has written a letter of credit 
upon some men's faces which is honored 
almost wherever presented," yet it is also 
true that " manners make the man," and are to a cer- 
tain degree an index of his character. It cannot be 
said that fine manners always indicate high moral 
qualities, for many a knave has a captivating address, 
and can readily insinuate himself into the good opinion 
of the unwary, while many a man of worth has such a 
forbidding aspect, that he at first repels all whom he 
approaches. But because good manners are some- 
times acquired and perverted by the evil minded, is no 
reason why the worthy should not possess all the 
charms and advantages which are derived from them. 
In fact, it is a duty to make ourselves pleasing to 
others, and extend our influence by this means as far 
as possible. 

Addison said, "that the true art of being agreeable 
is to appear well pleased with all the company, and 
rather to seem well entertained with them than to bring 
entertainment to them. A man thus disposed may 
not have much learning, nor any wit ; but if he has 
common sense, and something friendly in his behavior, 
it conciliates men's minds more than the brightest 

2 53 



254 MANNERS AND DRESS. 

parts without this disposition. It is true, indeed, that 
a man should not flatter and dissemble in company; 
but a man may be very agreeable, strictly consistent 
with truth and sincerity, by a prudent silence where 
he cannot concur, and a pleasing assent where he can." 

Politeness has been called the oil which makes the 
wheels of society run smoothly; and certainly it does 
greatly lessen the friction of daily contact with each 
other. Keen perceptions, a wise discernment, and a 
natural power of imitation, with much contact with the 
world, are the essential requirements of polished manners. 

It has been said, " that the best bred man is he who 
is possessed of dignified ease, to reconcile him to all 
situations and society.' ' This is not attained so much 
from a knowledge of the rules of etiquette, as by an 
innate nobility of character, a greatness of soul, and 
proper self respect. True politeness is never the pro- 
duct merely of punctilious conformity to established 
usages, although it is necessary to have a knowledge 
of these, but rather of an overflowing kindness of 
heart, a generosity of spirit, and a sacred regard for 
the golden rule. Indeed, the grand foundation on 
which the etiquette of all civilized countries is based, 
is that of doing to others as you would they should do 
unto you, and in preferring others to yourself. If such 
be the rule of conduct, it will be exhibited in a kindly 
spirit toward others / and a disposition to please them 
by doing and saying such things as will afford pleasure, 
and by omitting to do anything which would be dis- 



MANNERS AND DRESS. 255 

tasteful. Such a person would not indulge in sarcastic 
remarks, nor faultfinding, nor speaking of one's self or 
friends in an egotistical manner, nor would he broach 
any subject that might occasion painful reflections to 
any present, nor deal in. profuse, unmeaning flattery, — 
for all these are violations of the golden rule. A per- 
son actuated by this sublime principle of conduct, with 
proper self respect, and with a well-informed and cul- 
tivated mind, need not hesitate to enter any company, 
for these qualities will make his company delightful 
and acceptable, even though he should not be familiar 
with all the well-turned phrases and fulsome compli- 
ments of so-called polite society. 

As we unconsciously judge a persons character and 
disposition by his manners, so, also, we do by his dress. 

Some one has observed on this subject, that a care- 
less slovenliness in regard to personal appearance is a 
threefold sin, — againstourselves, as it detracts its proper 
portion of the affection and esteem which we might 
otherwise receive, — against others, to whom we do 
not afford all the pleasure of which we are capable; 
and against God, who has formed the dwelling and 
given it to our keeping to be honored and cherished. 

Looking at the subject from this broad view, it be- 
comes a very important one, and deserving of its proper 
share of our attention. An incident is related of a 
lady, who. on being asked what opinion she formed 
from the conversation of a young gentleman whom 
she had met, replied: "Do not ask me! I can re 



256 MANNERS AND DRESS. 

member nothing of it all but a horrible, great red 
coral ball in his cravat, which rolled against all my 
ideas, and knocked them down like ninepins." 

This gives point to the remark which a celebrated 
English divine once made to a lady: "Madam, so 
dress and so conduct yourself, that persons who have 
been in your company shall not recollect what you 
had on." 

To be well dressed does not necessarily mean that 
your apparel should be a copy of the latest whim of 
fashion, or made of the costliest material. That per- 
son is well dressed whose attire shows a suitableness 
to circumstances of time and place, and the position 
and means of the wearer. Neglect and inattention to 
the small externals of dress should be carefully guarded 
against. 

Another important matter in regard to dress is that it 
should be arranged with a view to comfort and health. 
The daughters of European aristocracy set us a com- 
mendable example in this respect, for in their out-door 
exercise, which they take freely, their attire is notice- 
able for its simplicity, suitableness and air of comfort. 

How foolish and shortsighted are those votaries of 
fashion, who are willing to sacrifice health, and even 
shorten life itself, in obeying her imperious dictates. 

Let your politeness be genuine, your manners such 
as will evince true courtesy and regard for others, and 
your dress betoken the modesty and refinement of 
your nature. 



0)OG^ GQODESflY. 




PROPER sense of modesty is a virtue which 
makes real merit more charming, because 
seemingly unconscious of excellence. But 
carried to an excess it will tend to dwarf 
the powers, cripple the energies and defeat the great 
purposes of life. When a man is well qualified to do 
a certain thing, and feels that he can, and ought to do 
it, but is impelled by modesty to shrink back into ob- 
scurity for fear of bringing himself into notice, then 
has his modesty degenerated into cowardice, and in- 
stead of consoling himself that he is cherishing a great 
virtue, he needs the lash of stern rebuke for his lack 
of manliness. Richard Steele, one of the most charm- 
ing English essayists, says : " I have noticed that under 
the notion of modesty men have indulged themselves in 
a spiritless sheepishness, and been forever lost to them- 
selves, their families, their friends and their country. I 
have said often, modesty must be an act of the will, 
and yet it always implies self-denial, for if a man has a 
desire to do what is laudable for him to perform, and 
from an unmanly bashfulness shrinks away and lets his 
merit languish in silence, he ought not be angry with 
the world that a more unskillful actor succeeds in his 
part, because he has not confidence to come upon the 

stage himself." 

257 



258 MOCK MODESTY. 

A lawyer who started in life a poor young man, and 
had risen to eminence, said that he owed much of his 
success to the advice which his wife gave to him soon 
after they were married. She said, "John, never 
make an excuse," and he never did. If he was called 
upon to do anything, instead of excusing himself, hold- 
ing back, or avoiding it altogether, he did it promptly, 
cheerfully, and to the best of his ability. 

Such men are valued, and often succeed beyond 
others who have superior qualifications, because of 
their readiness to do the best they can, while those 
who make excuses are soon dropped, and sink into the 
oblivion which they invite. A man must have confi- 
dence in himself if he would be worthy of the confi- 
dence of others. 

A young man goes to a new home among strangers. 
He is invited to participate in literary or social enter- 
tainments, or to identify himself with the church, or 
Sunday school, where a place of usefulness awaits him, 
but from a feeling of timidity, or distrust of his powers, 
he holds himself aloof, and turns away from the oppor- 
tunities of happiness and advancement which are 
offered him. Thus, thousands of deluded people have 
barred themselves from much of the highest pleasures 
and service of life. 

If this spectre of false modesty has confronted you 
with a thousand nameless terrors, turn now, resist it, 
and call all the latent powers of manhood to your aid 
to free you from its enthrallment. 



CQa^b whs CQosm of ^ou^sblp. 




ANY times in personal encounters have 
men been placed in desperate situations 
where the odds have been overwhelmingly 
against them, and where it would seem there was not 
the remotest chance for escape, and nothing left for 
them but to give up, and submit in the utter hopeless- 
ness of despair to their fate. Under such circumstances 
there is something grand and sublime when the unfort- 
unate victim, in the face of death, instead of cowering 
in terror, and letting his arms fall in the palsy of de- 
spair, resolves to sell his life as dearly as possible, and 
with superhuman strength which is born of his strong 
determination, contests every inch of his ground with 
as much persistency and enthusiasm as if he were as- 
sured of victory. 

The hero in such a conflict simply makes the most 
of himself, — realizing that he. has but one life, he re- 
solves not to throw it away, but to make it cost his 
assailants as dearly as possible. 

In the conflict of life, when struggling with trials and 
misfortunes, and at times well nigh overwhelmed, let 
us also call to our aid the same indomitable heroism. 
We have but one life to live ; a few short years are all 
that is alloted us in which to show of what stuff we are 

2 59 



260 MAKE THE MOST OF YOURSELF. 

made > and how we shall acquit ourselves; and then 
the opportunity for glorious, heroic action is over for- 
ever, the harvest time will have ended, and the night 
will have come when no man can work. 

The man who has resolved to make the most of 
himself will strive to develop to the utmost all his 
faculties, and improve all opportunities for honorable 
advancement. No matter if he is not gifted with 
genius, — no matter if he is even below the standard of 
mediocrity, he will be lifted up into the bracing atmos- 
phere of earnestness, and roused to a life of activity 
and devotion to duty. 

That great educator and noble man, Dr. Arnold of 
Rugby, said: " If there be one thing on earth which 
is truly admirable, it is to see God's wisdom blessing an 
inferiority of natural powers, when they have been 
honestly, truly, and zealously cultivated." Thousands of 
men who are active in every good work, and are the 
props on which the dearest interests of our social order 
rest, answer to this description, and yet they are com- 
mon-place men of ordinary intellect, and in early life 
were very unpromising. The hardest and best work ol 
the world is done by men who have had little to help 
them, except the high resolve that they would make the 
most of themselves, and because of this resolve, and 
guided by sincere convictions of duty, they have out- 
stripped and left far behind in the race of life, many 
gifted by genius, favored by fortune, blessed with 
friends, and surrounded by powerful social influences. 
A hard-hearted worldly man said to a poor boy 



MAKE THE MOST OF YOURSELF. 26 1 

who was struggling to get an education, and to raise 
himself in the world by his industry: " You can never 
succeed; it is impossible. Born a servant you were, 
and a hewer of wood and drawer of water you must 
remain, and leave book learning to those who have 
better advantages." 

The boy was a Christian, and his answer did honor 
to his profession: " All things are possible with God, 
and no good thing will he withhold from them that walk 
uprightly. 1 " That boy became a good and useful man, 
honored and trusted, and beloved by all around him. 

Dean Swift said: "It is in men as in soils; there 
is sometimes a vein of gold, which the owner knows 
not of," and so in your nature there lies hidden rich 
mines of thought and purpose awaiting development. 

Bishop C. H. Fowler said in a lecture: " The reason 
why there are not more great men, is because we are 
not waked up. Our brains are capable of a million 
pounds to an inch, and we work them with about fifty," 
which is but another way of saying that we do not 
make the most of ourselves. 

Many years ago a young man went to the East 
Indies to seek a fortune. After arriving, he sought 
employment, but every door seemed to be closed 
against him, and at length, his funds being exhausted, 
and feeling thoroughly disheartened by his disappoint- 
ments, he became desperate and resolved to terminate 
the struggle for existence by taking his life. He went 
to his room, loaded a pistol, put the muzzle to his head 



262 MAKE THE MOST OF YOURSELF. 

and pulled the trigger, but it hung fire. Astonished 
at this remarkable deliverance, he thought that he 
would attempt to fire the pistol out of the window, and 
then, if it went off, that he would accept the event as a 
token from God that his life was spared by His provi- 
dence, and that there was something for him yet to do 
in the world. So he opened the window, pointed the 
pistol in the open air, again pulled the trigger, and the 
pistol was discharged at the first attempt. Trembling 
with excitement, he resolved to hold his life sacred, 
and to make the most of it, and he went out again into 
the world with an indomitable determination to suc- 
ceed. That young man became the famous General 
Clive, whose achievements read like a romance, for 
with but a handful of European soldiers he secured to 
the East India Company, and ultimately to Great Brit- 
ain, the control of an immense country containing mar- 
velous riches, and about two hundred millions of people. 
Then strive to make the most of yourself, however 
unpromising you may be in yourself, however discour- 
aging your surroundings, and dark may appear your 
future. The simple resolve on your part to do this 
will give you strength, and nerve you with new cour- 
age and hope. With laudable motives to urge you 
on, it will lead you to the heights of success where, 
looking back on the path you have traversed, you will 
be astonished at the mountains of difficulty you have 
scaled, and the depths of perplexity and discouragement 
through which you have safely passed. 



GUAP^D THE G5EA^ SPOUt, 



;N our physical life we are no stronger than our 
Cwjll weakest point. If a man have weak lungs, 
^(Xi* but otherwise a superb physique, his feeble 
respiratory organs will probably be the meas- 
ure of his life. And, as in the physical life, the in- 
firm, by shielding their infirmities, prolong their lives 
for many years, even outgrow their weakness, and out- 
live the strong and vigorous, so in our moral nature, 
the consciousness of weakness and the great effort 
made to overcome it will strengthen and build up a 
robust character. Alexander the Great, with all his 
greatness, had a love for the intoxicating cup, and this 
weakness ended his career before middle life. It is 
related of Peter the Great, that he made a law which 
decreed that if any nobleman abused his serfs he should 
be looked upon as insane, and a conservator appointed 
to have charge of his person and estate. He had him- 
self a most violent temper, and one day in a passion 
struck his gardener, who, being a man of great sensi- 
bility, took to his bed and died. The great monarch, 
when hearing of this, exclaimed in tears, " Alas, I have 
civilized my own subjects; I have conquered other 

nations yet I have not been able to conquer and civil- 

263 



264 GUARD THE WEAK SPOT. 

ize myself." He did not guard the weak spot, and so 
committed the very offense that he was anxious to 
restrain in others. 

So every man, however strong, has some weakness 
in his character from which, more than from any other 
cause, he is in danger of making his life a failure. It 
is the highest wisdom to so understand ourselves as to 
oe aware of our infirmities, and so guard against them 
with constant watchfulness. It would seem 'reason- 
able to suppose that the principle of self-preservation 
would lead us to a rigorous self-examination for this 
purpose, but strange to say, it is often the case that the 
very weaknesses of men are precisely the points on 
which they pride themselves as being strong A man 
has a taste for drink, and he indulges himself in spite 
of the remonstrances of his friends, because he imagines 
that he can completely control his appetite. He cannot 
be made to believe that his habit of drinking is a 
weakness which is overmastering him, and which, 
ere long, may prove his destruction. Another man 
may have a miserly and avaricious disposition, and 
instead of resisting its encroachments, and counteracting 
them by enforced generosity, and thus guarding his 
weak spot, he refuses to exercise what feeble benevo- 
lent impulses he may have remaining. So, a proud 
man, instead of watching against pride, is vigilant only 
against any occasion of humility, and thus his weak- 
ness becomes more confirmed. 

One of the most difficult things for us to understand. 



GUARD THE WEAK SPOT. 265 

is our own nature and character; v^e are willing to 
study everything but ourselves, and consequently have 
entirely a false estimate of our condition and our 
needs. Seneca, one of the greatest of the ancient phil- 
osophers, said that, "We should every nignt call our- 
selves to account: What infirmity have I mastered 
to-day? what passion opposed? what temptation 
resisted? what virtue acquired? " and then he follows 
with the profound truth that " Our vices will abate of 
themselves if they be brought every day to the shrift." 

If we were using an implement with a w r eak place 
in it, how careful should w^e be not to throw r any un- 
usual strain on that part. Let us apply the same prac- 
tical wisdom m our treatment of ourselves. Let judg- 
ment and reason, like faithful sentinels, give the note 
of alarm when the hour of temptation comes, and call 
into exercise our principles of right, our convictions of 
duty, our sentiments of honor, and all the powders of 
our manhood or womanhood. As many a noble ship 
has stranded because of one defective timber, w T hen all 
the other parts were in excellent condition, so thou- 
sands of men are destroyed by one vice or weakness. 

Then guard the weak spot w r ith ceaseless vigilance; 
watch it with impassioned earnestness, that it may not 
destroy in you the perfect work which God has 
planned. 



F?ow G^eajh (Qen P?aye I^isen, 




'HAT a list of illustrious names have come 
up from the ranks of poverty and toil. 
No one need be dismayed because he 
* is poor, for, if he has talent, industry and 

a purpose, he can make his way to a high position, as 
others have done before him. 

Homer, the prince of ancient poets, was a beggar, 
strolling from city to city. Virgil, the Latin poet, was 
a potter's son, and Horace, the son of a shopkeeper. 

Shakspeare, the greatest of English dramatic poets, 
was the son of a wool stapler, and, according to Pope, 
his principal object in writing his plays and cultivating 
literature was to secure an honest independence. 

Milton, the greatest of English epic poets, and Gray, 
the author of the famous Elegy, were the sons of 
money scriveners. 

Chaucer was in early lite a soldier, and Hogarth, 
the celebrated painter, was apprenticed to an engraver 
of pewter pots. 

Wordsworth was a distributer of stamps, and Sir 
Walter Scott a Clerk to the Court of Sessions; each 
uniting a genius for poetry with punctual and practical 
habits as men of business. 

Robert Burns was the son of a poor farmer; his 

early life was humble, and his education very limited. 

266 



HOW GREAT MEM HAVE RISEN. 267 

Brought up to labor with his hands, he was yet a very 
ardent reader, and, though toiling like a slave to sup- 
port his parents, he found time to study the Spectator, 
Pope's works and many other useful books. 

John Stuart Mill was in one of the departments of 
the East India Company, and won the admiration of 
his colleagues by the ability with which he conducted 
the business of his office. 

Alexander Murray, the distinguished linguist, learned 
to write, by scribbling his letters on an old wool card, 
with the end of a burnt heather stem. 

James Watt, who was practically the inventor of 
the steam engine, was an instrument maker in Glas- 
gow, and while working at his trade studied French, 
German and Italian, in order to avail himself of the val- 
uable works in those languages on mechanical subjects. 

The Royal Exchange, in London, was built about 
three hundred years ago by Sir Thomas Gresham, 
who was a foundling. When a babe he was left, 
probably by his unnatural mother, to perish in a field, 
but a boy who was passing in a lane near by, was at- 
tracted by the loud chirp of a grasshopper to discover 
where he lay. The boy carried him home to his 
mother, who brought him up. He grew to be a strong 
man, went to London, became a merchant, one of the 
most noted men in the city, and counselor to Queen 
Elizabeth, who consulted him on great affairs of state. 

An eminent man, who attained a high place in the 
estimation of men by his talents, thus gives an account 



268 HOW GREAT MEN HAVE RISEN. 

of his life when a schoolboy: He said that he rose at 
six in the morning in winter, and made the fires ; spent 
the time until eight in sawing wood enough to keep 
three fires during the day; attended school from half 
past eight till eleven; ran errands till one; dined at 
half past one; attended school again from two till half 
past four; after tea wrote for his employer until nine; 
then studied until eleven o'clock. This was his daily 
routine, with very slight changes. Said he: "I do 
not think I spent half an hour a week in idleness." 

Benjamin Franklin was a journeyman printer, and 
every one is familiar with the picture of the shabbily 
dressed boy, going through the streets of Philadelphia, 
with a roll of bread under each arm, and munching a 
third. 

Neander, the famous German scholar and historian, 
was the son of poor Jewish parents, and had few ad- 
vantages. He used to glide into a bookstore almost 
every day, and sit for hours so absorbed as to be un- 
conscious of what was passing around him. The 
bookseller, noticing his selection of standard books, 
became interested in his progress, assisted him in se- 
curing a thorough education, and afterwards became 
the publisher of his former pupil's books. 

Hundreds of other instances might be added to 
these, showing that great men come from the ranks of 
the toilers, and that the discipline which comes from 
honorable labor, whether of the hand or the brain, is 
one of the greatest essentials to success. 



fl IiiniE^A^Y IXIPB. 




N no other country in the world is there a 
greater inclination to enter the field of litera- 
[<>(§f ture than in ours. There are few ambitious 
men or women of average ability who have 
not at some time in their lives attempted to write a 
poem, or a newspaper article, if not something more 
pretentious, with a belief that they had a special gift 
for literary work. One of the standing burlesques of 
the age, is the editor's basket crammed with contribu- 
tions doomed to the remorseless flames, or the unpoet- 
ical ragman. 

A literary life is one of infinite labor, — severe 
patience, exacting, unappreciated hard work. Johnson 
said that a man must turn over half a librar}^ to write 
one book. Wordsworth replied to an authoress who 
told him that she had spent six hours on a poem, that 
he would have spent six weeks. Bishop Hall labored 
thirty years on one of his works. The Commentary on 
the Epistle to the Hebrews was in Owen's hands at 
least twenty years, and Gibbon devoted as much time 
to writing his " Decline and Fall of the Roman 
Empire." Dr. Adam Clarke was at work for twenty 

years on his Commentary, and Noah Webster was 

269 



270 A LITERARY LIFE. 

thirty-six years in completing his dictionary. Moore 
spent several weeks in finishing one of his musical 
stanzas, which reads as if it were a flash of genius 
evoked without, any effort. Thackeray worked faith- 
fully for fifteen years before his ability was recog- 
nized; and so hundreds of instances might be given, 
showing what indefatigable labor is required, even 
when united with genius, before the merits of the 
author are recognized. 

There is probably no calling which is beset by 
greater discouragements, and this accounts for the fact, 
that out of the multitudes of ambitious competitors for 
literary honors, there is only here and there one who 
ever wins them. 

The success of literary work is determined largely 
by the critics, reviewers, and publishers, upon whose 
judgment the great mass of readers rely; and although 
these are generally men of acute perceptions, and fine 
literary taste, yet they possess the common infirmities 
of human nature, and have often failed to appreciate 
or even to recognize the greatest merit. In a work 
written in the last century, entitled the " Lives of the 
English Poets," the author says of Milton: "John 
Milton was one whose natural parts might deservedly 
give him a place among the principal of our English 
poets, having written two heroic poems, and a tragedy. 
But his fame has gone out like a candle in a snuff." 
Edmund Waller, one of the most famous poets con- 
temporary with Milton, refers to "Paradise Lost" as 



A LITERARY LIFE. 2J\ 

a tedious poem by the blind old school-master, in which 
tnere is nothing remarkable but the length. A critic 
once remarked that nothing short of an act of Parlia- 
ment would induce people to read the sonnets of Shak- 
speare. Byron was received by the reviewers with 
the most bitter sarcasm, and when Dickens brought 
out " Pickwick," a critic condescending to notice the 
" low cockney tale," shrewdly perceived that the 
author was already proving himself unequal, and that 
the " thin vein of humor " was rapidly showing signs 
of exhaustion. When Robert Bloomfield took his 
poem, upon which his fame rests, ." The Farmer's 
Boy," and offered it for publication to a London mag 
azine, the critic who looked over the manuscript, 
laughed long and loud as he read it, and advised the 
editor to recall the author and give him some sound 
advice in order to dispel the illusion that he was a 
poet. Henry Ward Beecher, in the early part of his 
career, sent half a dozer, articles to the publisher of a 
religious paper, offering them in payment for his sub- 
scription, but they were " respectfully declined." Miss 
Alcott, one of the most sparkling writers of this gener- 
ation, when a young school teacher, sent a manuscript 
to a publisher which was returned to her with the sug- 
gestion that she had better stick to teaching. Tenny- 
son's first productions, when offered to the public, 
provoked the ridicule of a leading review, and were 
duly consigned by it to oblivion. Buckle, the gifted 
author of the " History of Civilization," which has 



272 A LITERARY LIFE. 

been pronounced the most original historical work of 
this century, trudged from publisher to publisher in Lon- 
don with his first volume but could not find one who 
would take it, and was obliged to publish it at his own 
expense. Wordsworth, Bulwer, Washington Irving, 
Charlotte Bronte, and many others who became famous, 
all encountered the ominous shakings of the head, and 
serious misgivings of the critics, who endeavored to 
discourage them in their career. It is said that when 
Thomas Campbell sent his famous poem, " Hohenlin- 
den," to an English newspaper (for publication) there 
appeared this paragraph among the '• Notices to Cor- 
respondents " : "To T. C. — The lines commencing, 
4 On Linden when the sun was low, 1 are not up to our 
standard. Poetry is not T. C.'s forte." 

If these illustrious children of genius encountered 
such rebuffs, what can be expected for the young 
aspirant for literary honors, who is modestly treading 
the first steps of the pathway to fame? But their 
examples also contain encouragement. If you have 
burning within you the God-given spark of genius, and 
feel that you have a work to do with your pen, let 
nothing deter you, for, if you are willing, like them, to 
pay the price, you will rise to your proper place, and 
disprove the false judgments which would rashly doom 
you to failure. 

A literary life does not usually bring great pecuniary 
rewards. Probably no kind of brain work is so poorly 
paid. Although literary labor is better rewarded now 



A LITERARY LIFE. 2^ 

than when Johnson and Goldsmith lived and toiled in 
their garrets on Grub street, yet comparatively few 
writers, even among those who have attained emi- 
nence, have become wealthy from the products of their 
pens. It is said that Bayard Taylor, who had an inti- 
mate personal friendship with most of the literary 
celebrities of this and other countries, expressed the 
opinion that there is not one first-class author who has 
obtained wealth from his best and most enduring 
literary work; and it is also said that Ralph Waldo 
Emerson, who wrote books for forty years, never 
wrote but one that had a remunerative sale, and found 
it necessary to live in a simple and frugal manner, 
Bryant, who was a poet from his youth, received com- 
paratively but a small amount of money for his poems, 
and Washington Irving was nearly seventy years old 
before the income from his books met the expenses of his 
household, although he was one of the most gifted, 
popular and prolific of American authors. 

A contributor to periodical literature, in speaking of 
the compensation he received, said that he had been 
writing for ten years, and during that time he estimated 
that he had worked fifteen months' time at eight hours 
a day, during each year. He furnished during this 
period nineteen articles for magazines, for which he 
was paid nine hundred and twenty-seven dollars; 
received one hundred and thirty-eight dollars for nine 
articles in five weeklies, and seventy-eight dollars for 
correspondence and reviews in two dailies. He also 



2/4 A LITERARY LIFE. 

wrote one romance, which netted him one hundred 
and ninety-eight dollars, and three others which 
brought him in five hundred and sixty-two dollars, 
making a total of nineteen hundred and one dollars for 
the ten years' labor, — or less than two hundred dollars 
a year. 

Milton only received about twenty-five dollars for 
" Paradise Lost," and Shakspeare about the same 
amount for " Hamlet." Ben Jonson was given fifty- 
five dollars for one of his best plays, and Dryden was 
happy when he received five hundred dollars for one 
of his best productions. Goldsmith sold his " Vicar of 
Wakefield " for three hundred dollars, and the 
" Deserted Village " for five hundred. Charles Lamb 
agreed to write for two years for the London Magazine, 
for the sum of eight hundred and fifty dollars. Dr. 
Johnson received five hundred dollars for "Rasselas;" 
Fielding, three hundred dollars for his " Tom Jones," 
and Dean Swift fifteen hundred dollars for " Gulliver's 
Travels. 1 ' Edgar AllanPoe received but ten dollars for 
his poem, "The Raven." 

On the other hand, there are many instances where 
literary labor has received generous remuneration. 
Pope's translation of Homer brought him about ten 
thousand dollars. Tennyson was once paid five thou- 
sand dollars for a single poem, and an English pub- 
lisher offered him sixty-five thousand dollars down, and 
fifteen thousand dollars a year, to write exclusively for 
him. It is said that George Elliott was paid fifty 



A LITERARY LIFE. 275 

thousand dollars for l Daniel Deronda." The author 
of "Rutledge ^ received for it eight thousand dollars; 
while she who wrote " Beulah," realized one hundred 
thousand dollars for her novels in eight years. Sir 
Walter Scott made by his pen the immense sum of 
two hundred and fifty-nine thousand dollars, and Byron 
forty-five thousand dollars. The copyright on " Bar- 
naby Rudge," for six months, brought Dickens fifteen 
thousand dollars. 

But do not be dazzled by these exceptional instances 
of great pecuniary profit, nor be deluded by the rapid 
and brilliant success which now and then attends some 
genius of striking originality, or the lucky author who 
has got himself before the public by a fortunate hit. 
Dr. John Brown, in his book " Spare Hours," says that 
" every man should deny himself the luxury of taking 
his hat off to the public, unless he has something to 
say, and has done his best to say it aright." 

A literary life is a toilsome road; do not attempt to 
enter it unless you have the genius, the energy and the 
dauntless courage which will support you through 
years ot weary labor and discouragement, or you will 
fail to achieve success. 




Public Speaking, 




NDER our form of government every man 
is liable to be called to fill some office of trust 
and responsibility; and no citizen is properly 
fitted to discharge his duty in public life without being 
able to express his views before an audience in a clear 
and intelligible manner. Then how numerous are the 
occasions in private life where, if one is capable of ready 
expression, he can double his own influence and render 
valuable service to others. Cato defined an orator as 
a good man, skilled in the art of speaking. The ability 
to make a fine speech may be ranked among the 
highest accomplishments. It requires the rare com- 
bination of a well modulated voice, graceful and ap- 
propriate gestures, a ready flow of words and ideas, — 
and all kindled into flame by the fire of a sublime 
enthusiasm. While few attain this rare excellence, 
yet it is within the power of every man of ordinary 
ability to speak well if he will bestow the required 
labor and practice. 

Macaulay, who was himself a most fluent and ready 
speaker, observes : " The art of speaking is one which 
men of respectable abilities, with assiduous and intrepid 
practice, seldom fail to acquire. " Another eminent 

author remarks : " Nor should it ever be forgotten, 

276 



PUBLIC SPEAKING. 277 

that though the constitution of mind which is neces- 
sary for the highest eloquence is very seldom to be 
met with, there is no faculty whatever which admits 
of such indefinite growth and development, or in which 
perseverance and diligence will do so much, as in that 
of public speaking." 

It is true, that some have a natural facility of expres- 
sion, and can acquire the art much sooner than others, 
but it is a mistake to suppose that great orators derive 
their power entirely from natural gifts. Every great 
orator, with rare exceptions, is the product of careful 
training. To make a speech acceptable and effective^ 
there must be a pleasing and impressive delivery. 

Many men of undoubted learning and ability, largely 
waste their efforts by a failure here ; while on the other 
hand, many of limited knowledge and little application 
make their shallow logic tolerable, and even attractive, 
by their fine manner of presenting it. Those modula- 
tions and intonations of the voice, which make oratory 
so effective, are merely a matter of drill, and no one 
need despair who possesses the ordinary powers of ut- 
terance. 

The late Dr. E. N. Kirk, who was one of the finest 
pulpit orators of this century, possessed a finely modu- 
lated voice, which, like an exquisite harp, was respon- 
sive to every phase of tenderness or gust of passion; 
and this of itself served to charm and fascinate many of 
his auditors. 

Who would have thought that, when a young man, 



278 PUBLIC SPEAKING. 

the distinguished divine was remarkable for defects of 
voice and utterance, and was the butt of ridicule in his 
class at college for these peculiarities. In his old age 
and in the ripeness of his fame, he used to relate how 
he cured himself. After stating that, soon after enter- 
ing Princeton Seminary, he was called upon to declaim 
before a venerable professor and the college, he says: 
a When I spoke, I was so hurried, so indistinct, so em- 
barrassed, so confused and awkward, that the older 
classes were in a titter, and the instructor along with 
them. I went to my room, overwhelmed with mortifl. 
cation, and at once began a reformation. I took a 
familiar declamation, and pronounced each letter of 
each word, thus: M-y, my; n-a-m-e, name; i-s, is; 
N-o-r-v-a-1, Norval; etc., etc. I continued this with 
similar exercises for weeks. When I next declaimed 
before the class, the professor lifted up his hands in 
amazement and exclaimed: "Is it possible that this is 
the young man at whom we laughed a few weeks ago !" 
This shows how the defects of pronunciation and inton- 
ation can be easily overcome by systematic application 
of the simplest methods; and this is within the power 
of every speaker to do. Appropriate gestures come of 
themselves when confidence is acquired, and when the 
mind is fully aroused by the theme under consideration, 
these may be largely trusted to the inspiration of the 
occasion. 

To acquire a ready flow of choice language, is by 
far a greater task than the two preceding qualities of 



PUBLIC SPEAKING. 279 

voice and gesture. Mere fluency of speech is often the 
product of natural loquacity, but a command of words, 
necessary to elegant and copious expression, can only 
be obtained by continued study of language itself, and 
much practice in speaking. 

Martin Farquhar Tupper, in his " Proverbial Philos- 
ophy," gives the key to success, both in facility of ex- 
pression and the formation of clear ideas. He says: 

"When thou walkest, musing with thyself, in the green aisles 

of the forest, 
Utter thy thinkings aloud, that they take a shape and a being; 
For he that pondereth in silence, crowdeth the storehouse of his 

mind, 
And though he have heaped great riches, yet is he hindered in 

the using." 

The eloquent Henry Clay, who, with Webster and 
Calhoun, formed the triumvirate of American oratory 
in their day, in an address to young men, thus gave 
the secret of his wonderful power: " I owe my suc- 
cess in life to one single fact, viz. : that at the age of 
twenty-seven, I commenced, and continued for years, 
the process of daily reading and speaking upon the 
contents of some historical and scientific book. These 
off-hand efforts were made sometimes in a cornfield, 
at others in the forest, and, not infrequently, in some . 
distant barn, with the horse and ox for my auditors. 
It is to this early practice in the art of all arts, that I 
am indebted for the primary and leading impulses that 
stimulated me forward, and shaped and molded my 
entire subsequent destiny." And then he adds the fol- 



280 PUBLIC SPEAKING. 

lowing excellent advice and stimulus: " Improve, 
then, young gentlemen, the superior advantages you 
here enjoy. Let not a day pass without exercising 
your powers of speech. There is no power like that 
of oratory. Caesar controlled men by exciting their 
fears; Cicero, by captivating their affections and sway- 
ing their passions. The influence of the one perished 
with its author; that of the other continues to this day." 

It is said that when Webster was trout fishing, he 
would round off his periods for future use, and that, 
on one occasion, when having caught two fine fish, 
he passed them into his basket with a burst of language 
which, with appropriate modifications, was afterwards 
admired as one of the most remarkable passages in his 
famous Bunker Hill oration : " Venerable men ! you 
have come down to us from a former generation. 
Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives 
that you might behold this day." 

Lord Erkskine was one of the most brilliant of ad- 
vocates during a period of extraordinary eloquence; 
and he acquired his remarkable command of rich, 
copious and elegant language largely by his thorough 
and continuous study in early life of Milton and Burke, 
of whose diction Rufus Choate said: " It is the finest, 
richest and most remarkable English extant." Rufus 
Choate, himself, was remarkable for his astonishing 
facility of expression; but, although he was a natural 
orator, his power to marshal words at will was the re- 
sult of continued study. His biographer says that it 



PUBLIC SPEAKING. 28 I 

was his habit daily to translate from Greek and Latin 
into English, and practice the multiplication of syno- 
nyms, and that his idea of diction was to get hold of 
striking and strange expressions, which should help 
him to hold a jury's fatigued attention; but that in 
every part of study he relied vastly on the pen, which 
he valued as the corrector of vagueness of thought and 
expression. 

But there must not only be facility of expression, 
the power to array words, but there must be ideas for 
the words to clothe and adorn. The orator should be 
a man possessed of large stores of varied and extensive 
knowledge, and should have the happy faculty of so 
using it, as to animate and illustrate the views he sets 
forth, so that they will be strongly impressed on the 
minds of his auditors, and be received with pleasure. 

A writer has forcibly said: "A public speaker 
should lay under tribute all knowledge. Let him, like 
the Roman general, try to gather spoils and trophies 
from all nations and from every age, to deck the 
triumphs of his cause. Nothing, which in all his re- 
searches he gathers, should he despise. What seems 
useless to-day may prove of greatest value to-morrow. 
What seems a dull pebble, may flash when held up to 
the light, with the brilliancy of a diamond. More than 
one public speaker has done what the old alchemists 
failed to do, — taken materials which seemed bare and 
insignificant, and by genius and skill transmuted them 
into gold." 



282 PUBLIC SPEAKING. 

Edmund Burke was one of the world's great orators, 
and ranks with Demosthenes in the elements of the 
highest oratory. He was a man of wonderful erudi- 
tion, and had the tact and skill to so use his learning 
as to make his speeches worthy to be classed among 
the most finished models of excellence. 

Macaulay, in his matchless essay on Warren Hast- 
ings, thus speaks of Burke, and depicts in glowing 
language one of the secrets of his wonderful power: 
" Burke had, in the highest degree, that noble faculty 
whereby man is able to live in the past and in the 
future, in the distant and in the unreal. In every part 
of those huge bales of Indian information, which re- 
pelled almost all other readers, his mind, at once phi- 
losophical and poetical, found something to instruct or 
to delight. His reason analyzed and digested those 
vast and shapeless masses; his imagination animated 
and colored them. Out of darkness, dullness and con- 
fusion, he drew a rich abundance of ingenious theories 
and vivid pictures. 

George Whitefield, whose extraordinary eloquence 
would hold spell-bound immense out-door audiences, 
sometimes numbering twenty thousand people, repre- 
senting all classes and conditions of society, from beg- 
gars to the highest nobility, made use of everything 
which his ingenuity and industry could produce, to 
make his efforts powerful and effective. 

Phillips, the famous Irish orator, thus alludes to 
some of the characteristics which partly formed the 



PUBLIC SPEAKING. 283 

secret of his wonderful power: " Whitefield under- 
stood the power of illustration. He ever kept the 
volume of nature before him, delighting to unfold its 
magnificent pages. The ocean, the thunder storms, 
the bow encircling the heavens, furnished him with 
themes to illustrate his subject ; or a trial, or a pilot 
fish, or a furnace — in fact, anything and- everything, 
whether magnificently grand, or ever so insignificant, 
he made subservient to his oratorical powers. His 
eloquence reminded one of the ocean, adding, as it 
does, to its own boundlesness, contributions from every 
part of the universe. Well has it been said that he ' ran- 
sacked creation for figures, time for facts, heaven for mo- 
tives, hell for warnings, and eternity for arguments. 1 " 
The late Dr. Guthrie, of Edinburgh, one of the 
most fascinating pulpit orators of his day, once related 
to Newman Hall, how in early life he had begun a 
habit which he doubtless considered had contributed 
much to his success. He said: " When I was in my 
first parish, I used to have a class of young pupils 
whom I questioned about my sermons. Thus I learned 
what parts were best remembered, and I found that 
they had always remembered best the parts that had 
illustrations. So I resolved never to shoot off an arrow 
without winging it." The orator must understand 
human nature; he must have the tact to adapt himself 
to his audiences, and to employ such arguments and 
illustrations as will best engage their attention, and 
reach their understanding. 



284 PUBLIC SPEAKING. 

The celebrated Lord Cockburn practiced the follow- 
ing method of addressing a jury. He said; " I invari- 
ably pick out the stupidest fellow of the lot, and ad- 
dress myself especially to him, for this good reason: I 
know that if I convince him, I would be sure to carry 
all the rest. 1 ' This plan might be adopted to some 
extent by every speaker, for if the stolid and indiffer- 
ent in an audience can be interested and convinced, it 
is fair to assume that all others would be effectively 
reached. 

The great orator must not only possess a copious 
command of language, a good delivery, a perfect 
knowledge of his subject, wide and varied learning 
from which to illustrate and adorn his theme, and tact 
to understand and manage his audiences, but he must 
also have the fire which will fuse all these qualities to- 
gether and make them irresistible. 

Said a writer who often heard Daniel Webster in 
his palmiest days: " I have seen him when every 
nerve was quivering with excitement, when his 
gestures were most violent, when he was shouting at 
the top of his clarion voice, when the lightnings of 
passion were playing across his dark face as upon a 
thunder cloud. 1 " The impassioned fervor which can 
thus call into action the utmost powers of mind and 
body, comes from having the mind so completely ab- 
sorbed and surcharged with the subject and occasion, 
as to be wrought to its utmost tension. This is largely 
the result of careful and thorough preparation. 



PUBLIC SPEAKING. 285 

When Webster made that marvelous reply to Hayne, 
— the greatest of all his speeches, — instead of being 
due to the inspiration of the occasion, as the world sup- 
posed, it was a consequence of the most elaborate 
preparation. Webster said, in the closing part of his 
life: " No man is inspired with the occasion; I never 
was." It was said of Rufus Choate, by his biographer, 
that " Like Clay, Grattan, Chatham and Curran, he 
trusted to no native gifts of eloquence. He practiced 
eloquence every day for forty years. He would take 
some approved author, and utter a page aloud, but 
not noisily, — struggling to accomplish two things, — 
to get the feeling, and to express it passionately;" and 
he adds, that for this purpose he chose the works of 
Edmund Burke. Burke, who was one of the best 
judges on this subject, said of Mr. Fox: "It was by 
slow degrees that he became the most brilliant and 
powerful debater that parliament ever saw," and Fox 
himself attributed his success to his habitual practice 
in speaking, and said, that " during five whole sessions 
I spoke every night but one." Plutarch states that 
Cicero, in the early part of his life, "suffered not a day 
to pass without either declaiming or attending the 
most celebrated orators." 

These instances show that these illustrious masters 
of eloquence acquired their great perfection by long- 
continued and assiduous cultivation of their natural 
gifts. In this, as in everything else, it is practice that 
makes perfect, and nothing else will take its place. It 



286 PUBLIC SPEAKING. 

is as impracticable to learn to speak without practice, 
as to learn to swim without water ; and one has gained 
a great advantage when he has acquired the confidence 
and resolution to speak at every favorable opportunity. 
The great majority fail, because they have not the 
courage to make repeated attempts. 

It requires a strong will for a young speaker to con- 
quer his timidity, calm his fears, and to attempt to 
speak before men who are more experienced than him- 
self. But this will-power must be cultivated and ex- 
ercised continually, for even many of the greatest 
orators, after years of practice, have confessed that the 
fear and timidity which they experienced before speak- 
ing, never forsook them. It is said that Cicero began 
his speeches with trembling, which scarcely left him 
even when he got thoroughly into the current and sub- 
stance of his speech. The bold and jovial Luther said 
that he could never enter the pulpit without fear. 
The late Lord Derby, who was called "The Rupert of 
debate," said that his principal speeches cost him two 
sleepless nights, — one m which he was thinking what 
to say, the other in which he was lamenting what he 
might have said better. 

Sir William Follett, a celebrated English advocate, 
was once congratulated on his perfect composure be- 
fore trying an important case. His answer was to 
ask his friend to feel his hand, which was wet with the 
nervousness of anxiety. It is generally only the flip- 
pant who are free from timidity. 



PUBLIC SPEAKING. 287 

When the famous George Canning was Prime Min- 
ister of England, and was about to speak, a friend said 
to him: "Why! how nervous you are!" "Am I?" 
was the reply; " then I shall make a good speech." 

When the late Salmon P. Chase was a young law- 
yer, on attempting to make his first argument in the 
United States Court in an important case, he was so 
agitated that he could not utter a word. He sat down, 
and in a few moments recovered himself, and made 
his plea. On its close, one of the judges came and 
shook hands, and congratulated him. Chase, who 
was nettled at his failure to speak at first, asked in 
surprise what he was congratulated for. " On your 
failure," replied the judge; and he added; "A per- 
son of ordinary temperament and abilities would 
have gone through his part without any such symp- 
toms of nervousness; but when I see a young man 
break down once or twice in that way, I conceive the 
highest hopes of him." The future career of the 
young lawyer proved that the judge's knowledge of 
human nature was accurate. 

It is well to acquire the habit of using simple, short 
words as much as possible, and making the language 
plain, direct and forcible. Many make the mistake of 
stringing together high-sounding words and phrases, 
which have but a vague meaning, and are often en- 
tirely beyond the comprehension of many hearers, and 
are thus utterly lost. A man, in addressing a school, 
used the word " abridgement," but, thinking that some 



288 PUBLIC SPEAKING. 

of the younger children might not understand what it 
meant, he explained that " abridgement " was a syno- 
nym of Lt epitome." 

Spurgeon said of high-sounding preachers, " that 
they must have understood the Lord to say, ' Feed my 
camelopards, 1 instead of ' Feed my lambs, 7 for noth- 
ing but giraffes could reach any spiritual food from 
the lofty rack on which they place it." 

The first requisite in speaking is to make the thought 
expressed, clear and apparent; failing in this, all figures 
of speech and rhetorical flourishes are worthless. All 
rhetoric that obscures the meaning of the speaker, or 
even makes it less forcible, is a serious defect, however 
beautiful and ornate the style may be. 

An eminent minister said that his style of preaching 
was moulded through life by a single criticism. When 
a young man, he read a paper, exuberant with rhetoric, 
to his tutor. "Joel," said the wise man, " I kept 
school once. When I whipped the boys, I always 
stripped the leaves off the rod, 1 ' drawing an imaginary 
rod through his fingers. This apt and forcible illus- 
tration entirely cured him of a tendency to burden his 
style with the excessive use of rhetorical embellish- 
ment. 

Another mistake often made. is that of speaking too 
long, — of being so diffuse that the leading thoughts 
are lost in a multitude of words, and nothing remains 
clearly defined in the memory. It is said that three of 
the most influential members of the Congress which 



PUBLIC SPEAKING. 



289 



framed our national Constitution never made a speech 
more than twenty minutes long, in all the protracted 
and exciting debates of that illustrious convention. 

Alexander Hamilton, perhaps the greatest lawyer 
of his day, reckoned that a diffuse speaker, in the long- 
est argument in a trial, would not occupy more than 
two hours and a half, and his rival, Aaron Burr, sel- 
dom occupied more than an hour and a quarter in the 
most intricate cases, while many of their most im- 
portant causes were disposed of in half an hour. 

" Let your speeches be short, that the remembrance 
of them may be long, 11 said Confucius, and there is 
sound philosophy in the maxim. But it is by practice 
alone that a good speaker can be made, and no system 
of mere study or of theory can supply its place. 




(She Liawyei^ 




% OME years ago, it was ascertained that of 
the seventy-six members of the United 
/& States Senate, fifty were practicing lawyers; 
also that their profession furnished the heads 
of most of the government departments. Lawyers, 
therefore, rule the country. It speaks well for a pro- 
fession that can, to such an extent, so command the 
respect and confidence of the people. It may safely 
be assumed that most of these were successful in their 
profession, and the question naturally arises, What 
were the causes of their success? 

To young men entering professional life, this is a 
most momentous inquiry. Every place seems to be 
already filled by those who have experience and social 
prestige, and their hearts sink with heaviness and dis- 
couragement. J. G. Holland has left for such these 
words of advice and encouragement : 

" It is well, first, that all young men remember, that 

nothing will do them so much injury as quick and 

easy success, and that nothing will do them so much 

good as a struggle which teaches them exactly what 

is in them, educates them gradually to its use, instructs 

them in personal economy, drills them into a patient 

and persistent habit of work, and keeps them at the 

290 



THE LAWYER. 29 1 

foot of the ladder until they become strong enough to 
hold every step they are enabled to gain. The first 
years of every man's business or professional life are 
years of education. They are intended to be, in the 
order of nature and providence. Doors do not open 
to a man until he is prepared to enter them. The 
man without a wedding garment may get in surrep- 
titiously, but he immediately goes out with a flea in 
his ear. We think it is the experience of most suc- 
cessful men, who have watched the course of their 
lives in retrospect, that whenever they have arrived at 
a point where they were thoroughly prepared to go up 
higher, the door to a higher place has swung back of 
itself, and they have heard the call to enter. The old 
die, or voluntarily retire for rest. The best men who 
stand ready to take their places will succeed to their 
position and its honors and emoluments. 

" It is related of Webster, that when a young law- 
yer suggested to him that the profession to which 
he had devoted himself was over-crowded, the great 
man replied : t Young man, there is always room 
enough at the top.' Never was a wiser or more sug- 
gestive word said. There undoubtedly is always room 
enough where excellence lives. Webster was not 
troubled for lack of room. Neither Clay nor Cal- 
houn were ever crowded. 

" The young men will say that only a few can reach 
the top. That is true; but it is also true, that the 
further from the bottom one goes, the more scattering 



292 THE LAWYER. 

the neighborhood. One can fancy, for illustration, that 
every profession and every calling is pyramidal in its 
living constituency, and that, while only one man is at 
the top, there are several tiers of men below him who 
have plenty of elbow room, and that it is only at the 
base that men are so thick that they pick the meat 
out of one another's teeth to keep them from starving. 
If a man has no power to get out of the rabble at the 
bottom, then he is self-convicted of having chosen a 
calling or profession to whose duties he has no adapta- 
tion. 

" The grand mistake that young men make, during 
the first ten years of their business and professional 
life, is in idly waiting for their chance. They seem 
to forget, or they do not know, that during those ten 
years they enjoy the only leisure they will ever have. 
After ten years, in the natural course of things, they 
will be absorbingly busy. There will then be no time 
for reading, culture and study. If they do not become 
thoroughly grounded in the principles and practical 
details of their profession during those years; if they 
do not store their minds with useful knowledge; if 
they do not pursue habits of reading and observation, 
and social intercourse, which result in culture, the 
question whether they will ever rise to occupy a place 
where there is room enough for them will be decided 
in the negative. The young physicians, and the young 
lawyers, who sit idly in their offices, and smoke and 
lounge away the time, ' waiting for something to turn 



THE LAWYER. 293 

up,' are by that course fastening themselves for life to 
the lower stratum, where their struggle for a bare 
livelihood is to be perpetual. The first ten years are 
golden years, that should be filled with systematic 
reading and observation. Everything that tends to 
professional and personal excellence, should be an ob- 
ject of daily pursuit. To such men the doors of suc- 
cess open of themselves at last. Work seeks the best 
hands as naturally as water runs down hill; and it 
never seeks the hands of a trifler, or of one whose only 
recommendation for work is that he needs it. Young 
men do not know very much, anyway, and the time 
always comes, to those who become worthy, when 
they look back with wonder upon their early good 
opinion of their acquirements and themselves. ,, 

It is interesting and valuable to catch the spirit of 
some who have stood in the front rank of the world's 
greatest advocates. It has been remarked, that the 
persons who have reached the highest eminence in the 
law were at first dissatisfied with it. But, however 
this may be, at the close of their career they came to 
have an intense love for their profession. Said Rufus 
Choate of the law: " There's nothing else to like in all 
the world." 

Edmund Burke declared: u Law, »nray opinion, is 
one of the first and noblest of human sciences, which 
does more to quicken and invigorate the understanding 
than all the other kinds of learning put together. 1 " 1 

All these men were laborious in their methods. 



\ 

294 THE LAWYER. 

" To be a successful lawyer," said Lord Eldon, " a man 
must live like a hermit, and work like a horse." 

Daniel Webster told William Pitt Fessenden, that 
u when he began to practice law, he never let a legal 
document pass out of his hands without reading-it three 
times, at least, that all his fine figures and sentences 
were carefully studied, and that he studied hard while 
other young men slept." 

Rufus Choate searched among literature for words 
and illustrations to make effective his'matchless oratory. 
His biographer says: "Literature to Choate was of 
direct service in a double way. It quickened his fancy 
and ingenuity, and enlarged his mind without taking 
away from him the power to narrow down its propor- 
tions again to legal dimensions, and was also of essen- 
tial service as a mental relaxation and pastime." 

He gave this advice to young lawyers: " If you lan- 
guish in the pursuit of the law, read Quintilian and 
Cicero and enthusiastic legal writers." And earnestly 
recommended them to this practice: " Take a reported 
case, read the marginal statement and get the facts, 
shut the book and study out what should be the law, 
write out the decision, and then compare with the deci- 
sion of the court. This to improve powers of reasoning," 

Said Coke, one of the greatest legal minds that ever 
lived: " There is no knowledge, case, or point in law, 
seem it of never so little account, but will stand the 
student in stead one time or another." 

Tact, and a profound knowledge of human nature, 



THE LAWYER. 295 

are essential to the successful lawyer. A rough man 
extinguished Choate, after a long and dizzy speech, by 
saying it was " altogether too big a box for so small a 
calf." 

A judge of a superior court said, that when he plead 
before a jury he expected to turn over and repeat his 
main points about as often as there were men in it, so 
that they would have a clear comprehension of them. 

Sir James Scarlet, when asked the secret of his 
success as an advocate, said that he took care to press 
home the one principal point in the case without much 
regard to others. He knew the secret of being short. 
I find, said he, that when I exceed half an hour I am 
always doing mischief to my client. If I drive into the 
heads of the jury an important matter, I drive out 
matter more important I had previously lodged there. 

An eminent judge used to relate this anecdote of 
Justice Parsons : " When Parsons was a young lawyer, 
he was retained to argue an important case in a Maine 
court. He was unknown to the people, and even to 
the lawyers. The judge had heard of him as a rising 
man, and was drawn to the court-room by curiosity to 
learn the secret of his power. Parsons began his plea 
by putting one foot in a chair; then, leaning one elbow 
on his knee, he talked to the jury as a man would tell 
a story at his fireside. ' Pretty soon I thought I under- 
stood him,' said the judge. l He was winding the jury 
round his fingers. He made no show. He treated 
the case as if it were a very simple affair, of which the 



296 THE LAWYER. 

conclusion was obvious and inevitable; and he did not 
talk long. He got a verdict at once; and after the 
jury were dismissed, one of them, whom I happened 
to know, came to me and said: " Who is this Mr. 
Parsons? He isn't much of a lawyer, and don't talk 
or look as if he ever would be one; but he seems to 
be a real good sort of a man." 

" Monsieur Chaix d'Est Ange was one of the greatest 
lawyers of France, and one of the greatest triumphs 
ever obtained at any bar, was achieved in the case of 
a man called Benoit, whom he was prosecuting for par- 
ricide. Benoit had all along persisted in declaring he 
was innocent, and there was nothing but circumstantial 
evidence against him. M. Chaix d'Est Ange resolved 
to employ one of the most startling and dramatic 
figures of rhetoric ever used in a court of law. Turn 
ing to the prisoner, he placed the scene of the murder 
in vivid and striking language before him. ' There,' 
he cried, ' sat your father, quietly reading the news- 
paper, near the window. He could not see who came 
into the room. You stole in on tiptoe and crept close 
behind him. You paused one moment and then raised 
the hatchet' — 'Yes, yes!' cried Benoit, 'that's it; 
that's how I did it!' What the repeated interroga- 
tories of the examining magistrates had failed to elicit 
from the murderer, was forced from him by the elo- 
quence of the barrister." 

One of the strongest qualifications of a good lawyer 
is integrity, for that is as much a part of his working 



THE LAWYER 2QJ 

capital as his professional skill, and without it he is 
but half equipped for his work. The greatest trusts 
in the world are held by lawyers, and it is to the credit 
of the profession, that there are a larger proportion of 
them capable of exercising important trusts with abso- 
lute integrity, than in any other class of business or 
professional men. This comes in large part from their 
training and discipline, a part of which is to define 
rights with nice discrimination and absolute impar- 
tiality. 

The lawyer must be devoted to his profession. The 
law has been called " a jealous mistress," and it re- 
quires the absorption of all the forces of mind and 
body, and a steady purpose, to succeed. 

Lord Erskine, early in his career, wrote these words 
to a friend who sought to persuade him to seek honors 
in parliament rather than in the law : " Keep, then, the 
path, 1 ' he says. " That means the path which leads to 
where one is going. Keep the path, i. e., be steady in 
your exertions, read your briefs thoroughly, let your 
arguments be learned and your speech to juries be ani- 
mated. There is no advantage in keeping the path, 
except it be the right one. I am in the path, and 
mean to keep it. To a grave lawyer like me West- 
minster Hall is the only path to greatness." 

Another distinguishing trait of the legal profession 
has been their fairness and love of justice. 

Samuel J. Tilden said of O'Connor, the distinguished 
advocate, " that during his fifty years' practice, he 



298 THE LAWYER. 

was never known to misstate facts or present unsound 
propositions of law," and in saying that, he pronounced 
an encomium on his distinguished friend more effective 
than could be contained in volumes of panegyrics. 

A former client of Abraham Lincoln said no one 
could consult him on professional business without being 
impressed with his absolute honesty and love of the 
right, and especially was this noticeable in his con- 
scientious scruples in charging moderate fees. These 
expressions and characteristics of some of the greatest 
names in jurisprudence, though few, are yet suggestive, 
and show in a measure some of the elements of their 
success. But the basis of the fame of every great 
lawyer is character, — without that he may be brilliant 
and learned, but he will fall short of a high place in 
his profession. 




©HE E?^EAGHEI^. 




EV. JOSEPH PARKER, of London, one 
of the most original preachers of this age, 
has made this criticism: " Preaching to-day 
is often a sublime flight in the air, in the 
exciting progress of which the contestants strike at 
nothing, and hit it with magnificent precision." 

Notwithstanding this scathing remark, it may be 
truthfully said, that preachers were never abreast of 
the times more than at the present day. Never has 
there been more careful and systematic preparation for 
the sacred office than in these modern days. Dr. 
William M. Taylor, of New York, himself one of the 
ablest divines of this generation, has given as the re- 
sult of his experience and observation, these invaluable 
hints among others, on the preparation of the preacher. 

First. The study of the works of standard authors, 
which should include Shakespeare, Milton, Gibbon, 
Macaulay, Motley, Locke, Reid, Hamilton, Mill, 
Butler, Edwards and Chalmers. 

Second. The free and constant use of the pen in 
original composition. 

Third. The limited use of adjectives. 

Fourth. The cultivation of elocution, and an earnest 

delivery. 

299 



300 THE PREACHER. 

Fifth. The use of common sense, and a perception 
of the fitness of things ; and sums up his suggestions in 
these words: 

" Finally, let all your abilities, natural and acquired, 
be vitalized by your devotion to the Master. The 
question is not, " Lovest thou the work ?" but, " Lovest 
thou meP" Such love will consecrate the whole man, 
and make him all magnetic. One of the most effective 
features in preaching is simplicity." 

Arthur Helps tells a story of an illiterate soldier at the 
chapel of Lord Morpeth's castle in Ireland. Whenever 
Archbishop Whately came to preach, it was observed 
that this rough private was always in his place, mouth 
open, as if in sympathy with his ears. Some of the 
gentlemen playfully took him to task for it, supposing 
it was due to the usual vulgar admiration of a celebrity. 
But the man had a better reason, and was able to give 
it. He said, "That isn't it at all. The Archbishop is 
easy to understand. There are no fine words in him. 
A fellow like me, now, can follow along and take every 
bit of it in." 

An old church member made this remark to his 
pastor: u I dinna ken a part of your sermon yesterday. 
You said the Apostle used the figure of circumlocution, 
and I dinna ken what it means." "Is that all," said 
the minister, " It's very plain. The figure of circum- 
locution is merely a periphrastic mode of diction." 
"Oh, is that all! What a puir fool I was not to 
understand that." 



THE PREACHER. 3OI 

The following description by Dr. Hanna, of the 
manner and style of Dr. Guthrie, the stalwart and elo- 
quent Scotch preacher, is more suggestive than any 
set rules. He says : " No discourses ever delivered 
from the pulpit had more the appearance of extem- 
pore addresses. None were ever more carefully 
thought over, more completely written out beforehand, 
or more accurately committed to memory. If ever 
there was any one who might have trusted to the spur 
of the moment for the words to be employed, it was 
he. No readier speaker ever stepped upon a platform ; 
but such was his deep sense of the sacredness of the 
pulpit, and the importance of weighing well every word 
that should proceed from it, that he never trusted to a 
passing impulse to mold even a single phrase. Yet in 
the manuscript there were often phrases, sentences, 
illustrations, that one on hearing them could scarcely 
believe to have been other than the suggestion of the 
moment, linking themselves, as apparently they did, 
with something that was then immediately before the 
speaker's eye. The explanation of this lay in the 
power (possessed in any considerable degree by but 
few, possessed by him in perfect measure) of writing 
as if a large audience were around him; writing as if 
speaking ; realizing the presence of a crowd before him, 
and having that presence as a continual stimulus to 
thought and a constant molder of expression. The dif- 
ference, in fact, that there almost invariably is between 
written and spoken address, was by his vivid imagina- 



302 THE PREACHER. 

tion and quick sympathies reduced to a minimum, if 
not wholly obliterated. Herein lay one secret of his 
great power as a preacher. 

" Another lay in the peculiar character of the imagery 
and illustrations of which he made such copious use. 
It has been remarked by all who have passed a critical 
judgment of any value upon his attributes as a preacher, 
that his chief, if not exclusive, instrument of power was 
illustration. In listening to him, scenes and images 
passed in almost unbroken succession before the eye; 
always apposite, often singularly picturesque and 
graphic; frequently most tenderly pathetic. But it 
was neither their number nor their variety which ex- 
plained the fact that they were all and so universally 
effective. It was the common character they possessed 
of being perfectly plain and simple, drawn from 
quarters with which all were familiar; few of them 
from books, none of them from ' the depths of the 
inner consciousness,' supplied by ingenious mental 
analysis; almost all of them taken from sights of 
nature or incidents of human life: — the sea, the storm, 
the shipwreck, the beacon-light, the life-boat ; the family 
wrapped in sleep, the midnight conflagration, the child 
at the window above, a parent's arms held up below, 
and the child told to leap and trust. There was much 
of true poetry in the series of images so presented ; but 
it was poetry of a kind that needed no interpreter, re- 
quired no effort either to understand or appreciate; 
which appealed directly to the eye and the heart of 



THE PREACHER. 303 

our common humanity; of which all kinds and classes 
of people, and that almost equally, saw the beauty and 
felt the power." 

Dr. Guthrie, visiting an artist's studio, ventured to 
criticise an unfinished picture. The artist, with some 
little warmth, remarked, " Dr. Guthrie, remember you 
are a preacher, not a painter." "Beg your pardon, my 
good friend," replied the clergyman; " I am a painter; 
only I paint in words, while you use brush and col- 
ors." 

The manner and arrangement of presenting truth, 
has its place in successful preaching, but nothing can 
take the place of the theme. The pulpit is not a pro- 
fessor's chair, nor a poet's corner, nor merely a lookout 
place for wise and instructive observations on science, 
society, human achievement, or worldly success; but 
a place consecrated for the presentation of the great 
truths according to the Bible; and if it falls short of 
this, it is a failure. The strong hold which the ser- 
mons of D. L. Moody have taken upon the world, is 
due to the fact that he has preached on the great 
essential truths of the Christian religion. A clergy- 
man in a village on the seashore, who found his con- 
gregation rapidly diminishing, asked an old Scotch 
sailor why the people did not come to church. The 
Scotchman thus replied: " I canna exactly tell, mon; 
ye preached on spring and autumn most beautiful dis- 
courses, and ye improved the great accident and loss 
of life on the Sound; ye might try them with some- 



304 THE PREACHER. 

thing out of the Bible, and being fresh, maybe it would 
hold them another Sunday or two." 

The successful preacher must come into close 
contact with the people. He must cultivate and use 
his social powers to first make friends of those whom 
he would save. A religious writer has truly said: 
" Sinners will not be converted while they are kept at 
arm's length. The faithful shepherd calleth his own 
sheep by name. The measure of the church and the 
ministry's power over men, is in general exactly pro- 
portioned to their degree of personal contact with 
them. It is not enough to harangue them. We can 
hardly call that preaching which springs from an am- 
bition to address them in a mass, dissevered from an 
interest in them in detail and as individuals. True 
preaching, evangelical preaching, finds its themes and 
draws its directness and point from pastoral observa- 
tion, and then carries the preacher, with fresh impulse, 
back to the sphere of personal labor again. Evan- 
gelical preaching is the distant artillery which thun- 
ders at the frowning fortress, and rains its iron storm 
upon it until a breach is made in the walls, and the 
way is clear for a hand-to-hand conflict, a rush to the 
battlements, and the planting of the victorious stand- 
ard upon the walls." 

The power of personal influence is a mighty power 
in the pulpit as elsewhere. How often has it been 
noticed that " One speaker will deliver a certain set 
of opinions in suitable words, and with all the aid which 



THE PREACHER. 3O5 

art can give him, and his words will fall cold and flat 
upon the ears of those who hear him. Another will 
utter the same words, with less apparent eloquence, 
it may be, but he will reach the heart and stir the 
emotions of every person within reach of his voice. 
Yet the truth proclaimed by both speakers was the 
same; the difference lies in some subtle distinction of 
personality which makes the one man a living magnet, 
and which leaves the other without the power to com- 
mand either conviction or sympathy.'" 

The preacher, of all professions, should not forget 
the nature and importance of his calling. He is deal- 
ing with the most tremendous issues that belong to 
our destiny; and the day is short in which he can 
work. With this solemn responsibility ever pressing 
upon him, making all things subservient to the effect- 
iveness of his holy office, and relying on the sustaining 
power of Him in whose name he speaks, he may hope 
for, and realize a blessed ministry. 




©HE ©BAGHBI^. 




"If we work upon marble, it will perish; if we work upon 
brass, time will efface ; if we rear temples, they will crumble 
into dust. But if we work upon immortal minds,— if we imbue 
them with right principles,— with the just fear of God and 
their fellow-men, we engrave upon these tablets something 
which no time can efface, but which will brighten to all eternity." 
— Webster. 

ORD BROUGHAM left this fine tribute to 
faithful teachers: "The conqueror moves 
on in a march. He stalks onward with the 
' pride, pomp, and circumstance of war' — banners fly- 
ing, shouts rending the air, guns thundering, and mar- 
tial music pealing to drown the shrieks of the wounded, 
and the lamentations for the slain. 

" Not thus the schoolmaster in his peaceful vocation. 
He meditates and prepares in secret the plans which 
are to bless mankind; he slowly gathers around him 
those who are to further their execution; he quietly, 
though firmly, advances in his humble path, laboring 
steadily, but calmly, till he has opened to the light all 
the recesses of ignorance, and torn up by the roots 
the weeds of vice. It is a progress not to be compared 
with anything like a march; but it leads to a far more 
brilliant triumph, and to laurels more imperishable than 
the destroyer of his species, the scourge of the world, 

ever won. 

306 



THE TEACHER. 307 

Such men — men deserving: the glorious title of 
teachers of mankind — I have found laboring conscien- 
tiously, though perhaps obscurely, in their blessed 
vocation wherever I have gone. I have found them, 
and shared their fellowship, among the daring, the 
ambitious, the ardent, the indomitably active French; 
I have found them among the persevering, resolute, in- 
dustrious Swiss; I have found them among the labori- 
ous, the warm-hearted, the enthusiastic Germans; I 
have found them among the high-minded but enslaved 
Italians; and in our country, God be thanked, their 
numbers everywhere abound, and are every day in- 
creasing. Their calling is high and holy; their fame 
is the property of nations; their renown will fill the 
earth in after ages, in proportion as it sounds not far 
off in their own times. Each one of these great 
teachers of the world, possessing his soul in peace, per- 
forms his appointed course — awaits in patience the ful- 
fillment of the promises — resting from his labors, be- 
queaths his memory to the generation whom his works 
have blessed — and sleeps under the humble, but not 
inglorious epitaph, commemorating ' one in whom man- 
kind lost a friend, and no man got rid of an enemy. '" 

Luther said, if he were not a preacher he would be 
a teacher; and he thought the latter was the most im- 
portant, since it was easier to form a new character 
than to correct a depraved one. 

There is a significant fable in the Jewish Talmud, 
which illustrates how the power of the teacher has 



308 THE TEACHER. 

been recognized for thousands of years. The fable 
relates that at a time of great drought in Palestine the 
priests and the pharisees, the rabbis and the scribes, 
had assembled together to pray for rain; but notwith- 
standing their united intercessions the rain came not. 
Then there stood up among them one whom none 
knew, and, as he prayed, immediately the sky became 
dark, and the rain fell in torrents. " Who art thou, 
whose prayers are heard when all ours have been re- 
jected?" asked the astonished people. And the stranger 
answered: " I am a teacher of little children." 

What nobler work can there be than to develop the 
character and mould the lives of those who will live 
after us, — to set in motion trains of influences which 
will reach out into eternity. 

An incident has been related which shows what 
wonderful transformation of character may result 
from successful teaching. Recently, a brilliant and 
finely educated young man was sent to represent one 
of the powerful religious denominations in a new ter- 
ritory. Twelve years before, he was one of the wild 
Arabs of New York city, sleeping by the docks, or in 
doorways, and finally was sent to one of the institu- 
tions of BlackwelFs Island. While there, an officer 
of the Aid Society saw and became interested in him, 
and he was sent out West on a farm. Three months 
every year of the district school developed in him a 
passion for learning; then, when he had served out 
his time on the farm, he got appointed as bell-ringer 



THE TEACHER. 3O9 

at Yale College, and so paid his expenses while going 
through that institution. His good conduct and bril- 
liant record won him influential friends, who, after he 
graduated, sent him to a theological seminary for 
three years, and thus he was fitted for a career of act- 
ive usefulness. 

Who can estimate the power for good of such a life? 
Yet how much of it was due to the faithful work of 
the teacher in the humble district school of his Western 
home ? 

Oftentimes the teacher becomes discouraged at the 
seeming fruitlessness of his labors. 

Dr. Arnold once observed of a bad pupil, and his 
efforts to help him: "It is very often like kicking a 
football up a hill. You kick it upwards twenty yards, 
and it rolls back nineteen. Still you have gained one 
yard, and then in a good many kicks you make some 
progress."" 

How carefully the gardener prepares his ground, 
chooses his seed, and improves the right time for sow- 
ing; and then, if he be a wise man, he does not fret 
and worry because he does not see immediate results, 
for he knows there must be a time for growth. So 
the teacher must await in patience the development of 
the seeds of knowledge, principle and purpose, which 
it is his mission to implant in the minds of his pupils. 

The successful teacher must have a love for the 
work. He must take a personal interest in his pupils; 
study each character by itself, and, to attain the best 



3IO THE TEACHER. 

results, must gain their confidence and love. What a 
charming picture a poet has drawn of the simple 
school of our forefathers, thus describing the gentle 
old teacher of the olden time: 

" He taught his scholars the rule of three, 

Writing, and reading, and history, too; 
He took the little ones up on his knee, 
For a kind old heart in his breast had he, 

And the wants of the littlest child he knew. 
c Learn while you're young,' he often said, 

4 There is much to enjoy down here below; 
Life for the living and rest for the dead,' 

Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago. 

With the stupidest boys he was kind and cool, 

Speaking only in gentlest tones; 
The rod was hardly known in his school — 
Whipping to him was a barbarous rule, 

And too hard work for his poor old bones; 
Besides, it was painful, he sometimes said: 

4 We should make life pleasant down here below, 
The living need charity more than the dead,' 

Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago." 

No work except the mother's, to which that of the 
true teacher is allied, calls for more varied qualities 
than the teacher's work. 

It is not enough that he be learned in all wisdom, so 
that he may stand before his pupils the embodiment of 
the thought and culture to which they should aspire, he 
must know how to impart that knowledge; nay, often 
to create and foster a desire for it. He must be wise 
in his ways of presenting truths, and patient when 
results seem to be almost lacking. 

The true teacher must also be firm as well as loving. 



THE TEACHER. 3II 

There must be no compromise with rebellion against 
rightful authority, otherwise he is fostering the seeds 
of anarchy. It is the teacher's right and duty to be 
obeyed, and he must expect nothing else. 

He must be full of vital force and power which will 
be contagious. He must know how to handle his 
little corps of undisciplined troops as a bod)', so that 
no time may be wasted, and the inspiration which 
comes from numbers may be made the most of, — and 
at the same time he must have every heart and will 
so thoroughly under his loving mastery that they will 
respond to his touch as keys to the touch of the master 
musician. 

Much of this skill is heaven-born, but there must be 
years of patient striving before either the musician or 
the teacher can be sure of no discord. 

Would that every teacher in the land would take 
to heart these words of Payson : " What if God should 
place in your hand a diamond, and tell you to inscribe 
on it a sentence which should be read at the last day, 
and shown there as an index of your own thoughts and 
feelings; what care, what caution, would you exercise 
in the selection! Now, this is what God has done. 
He has placed before you the immortal minds of chil- 
dren, more imperishable than the diamond, on which 
you are to inscribe, every day, and every hour, by your 
instructions, by your spirit, or by your example, some- 
thing which will remain and be exhibited for or 
against you at the judgment." 



youi^ Dutcy in Politics. 




'HARLES SUMNER said that the citizen 
who neglects his public duty is a public 
enemy. There is a large class of such pub- 
lic enemies, and they are the most serious 
menace to the purity and prosperity of our govern- 
ment. They are men who hold politics in reproach, 
because of its pollutions and rottenness, but who, in- 
stead of doing their part to purify it, scornfully take 
up their skirts, and say that they will not descend into 
its mire, forgetting that they themselves are responsi- 
ble for such deplorable conditions by their own neg- 
lect of duty. They may, too, be so absorbed in their 
own private interests that they satisfy themselves with 
the excuse that they cannot spare the time. 

Said the Earl of Derby, in an address to students: 
" If there is one thing more certain than another, it is 
this, — that every member of a community is bound to 
do something for that community in return for what 
he gets from it; and neither intellectual cultivation, 
nor the possession of material wealth, nor any other 
plea whatever, except that of physical or mental in- 
capacity, can excuse any of us from that plain and per- 
sonal duty.'" 

The man who neglects his duty in this matter is 

3 12 



YOUR DUTY IN POLITICS. 313 

guilty of a moral wrong, for society and the nation is 
made up of an aggregation of individuals, each of whom 
is under a tacit obligation to sustain and preserve them, 
in return for the protection and benefits which he de- 
rives from them. 

Says R. W. Dale, an English divine: "I think it 
possible that the time may come when men who refuse 
to vote will be subjected to church discipline, like men 
who refuse to pay their debts." 

There was a law of Pythagoras which pronounced 
every man infamous who, in questions of public mo- 
ment, did not take sides; and well were it for us to-day 
if we were subject to such a law. 

Rev. C. H. Spurgeon thus speaks of men who neg- 
lect their public duties: " The fact is, a certain class 
of men love to be quiet, and are ready to sell their 
country to the evil one himself, so that they may live 
at ease and make no enemies. They have not the 
manliness to plead for the right, for it might cost them 
a customer or a friend, and so they profess a superior 
holiness as a reason for skulking." 

An able writer, of our own country, has spoken 
words which are worthy to be treasured up in the 
heart of every true citizen. He says: 

" In our days it seems that men who are almost 
completely destitute of all proper ideas of their rela- 
tions to free institutions, have a greater influence than 
those who fully understand this relationship. 

u Men of refinement, of high social position, of the 



3H YOUR DUTY IN POLITICS. 

highest mental culture, ministers of the Gospel, have, 
in a very large measure, stepped back, and given way 
to the preponderating forces of ignorance and personal 
advantage; so that now our officers, to a great extent, 
hold their positions by the votes of those who fail to 
comprehend the real significance of the ballot. 

" Because politics have become so miserably cor- 
rupt, being almost synonymous with fraud, are the 
cultured, the refined, and the ministers justified in 
holding themselves entirely aloof, and, by their very 
refusal to become interested in these high concerns, 
making an increase in corruption still more possible? 

" The government is for all, — for the artisan who 
lives and earns his bread and clothing by manual labor, 
and for those who seek and obtain the same results by 
brain efforts. Every citizen is equally brought under 
all the advantages that may be gained by the form of 
government which has been agreed upon; which has 
been established in harmony with such agreement; and 
no one class is, or can be, justified in ceasing to exert 
individual effort for the maintenance of every in- 
stitution which has grown out of the form of govern- 
ment under whose protection we live. And this is 
still more true when these institutions are, in their very 
nature, free, therefore liable to be misused, and very 
liable to work out an entirely different result from the 
original intention, — this end accomplished by the ig- 
norance of the very ones who should derive a large 
share of benefit from their continuance.' 4 ' 



YOUR DUTY IN POLITICS. 315 

A part of public duty which is more universally ig- 
nored by men of seemingly high character and influ- 
ence, than any other, is that of holding public office. 
There are hundreds of men who have the qualifica- 
tions of integrity, mental capacity, great business ex- 
perience, with leisure, and who command the con- 
fidence of the community in which they live, but who 
refuse to hold offices of trust and responsibility. The 
consequence is, that a lower grade of men take the 
offices from motives of gain or personal ambition. Is 
it not a shame that the desire to benefit the world by 
faithfully performing the duties of a public office 
should not be as strong as the selfish considerations of 
personal gain? . A man who is called to an office, and 
is fitted* for it, has no more right to refuse to serve 
than to deny to the thirsty the cup of cold water, or 
to omit any act of kindness or charity. It is not a trifling 
matter which he can excuse by whims, impulses, or 
caprice, but he does a positive wrong to the interests 
of society and good government, and is morally ac- 
countable for it. This feeling has its root in selfishness, 
which is as reprehensible in this form as in any other. 
If good order, just laws, and a righteous administration 
of justice are to be maintained, it must be not by those 
who are in conflict with them, but by those who are 
willing to uphold and stand by them, and give some- 
thing more than a mere negative support to them. 
Citizen of a free and enlightened government, — do you 
consider what a rich and glorious heritage has been 



316 YOUR DUTY IN POLITICS. 

committed to your keeping? It is a sacred trust which 
you hold for future generations. 

See, then, that you transmit it unimpaired to your 
posterit}/. If you are called upon to hold office, do 
not shirk it because it conflicts with your ease, or even 
with your business; but accept it, and hold it worthily. 
If there is work in the primary caucus, do not despise 
it because it may seem unimportant, but remember 
that the bulk of the work of the world is drudgery, of 
which politics has its share, and it should be your 
duty, as much as others, to bear it. Remember that 
" eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," and our in- 
stitutions cannot be maintained without the support 
and active co-operation of all intelligent and high- 
minded citizens. 

"What constitutes a state? 
Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, 

Thick wall or moated gate; 
Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned; 

Not bays and broad-armed ports, 
Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride; 

Not starred and spangled courts, 
Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. 

No: — men, high-minded men, 

Men who their duties know, 
But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, 

Prevent the long-aimed blow, 
And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain; 

These constitute a state." 



(Sl^UE (SUliJBU^E AND I^OGI^ESS. 




HERE is a so-called culture abroad in the 
world which is calculated to foster the pride 
and exclusiveness of its adherents. It would 
draw its inspiration from art, literature, music, 
travel, and create an aristocracy of mind, in society, 
whose select circle no one less favored can hope or enter. 
It is merely a refined form of selfishness, — having ele- 
gant manners, subdued tones, and an attractive bear- 
ing, to be sure, but yet selfish and narrow in its spirit 
and purpose. Its object is the glorification of the in- 
dividual, and it aims at culture for its own sake only. 
How different this from the culture which has been 
thus defined by an able essayist: 

" Professor Huxley somewhere says, in substance, 
that a cultured man is one whose body is trained to 
obedience; whose passions are brought to heel un- 
der the mandates of a vigorous will; whose mind is 
thoroughly informed as to the laws of nature, and 
whose whole nature is in obedience to them. If there 
is no future, this definition of culture will do well 
enough, though even, then it does not comprehend all 
the uses of the mind. But if heaven continues all good 
apprenticeship of the mind here, and engages it ac- 

3*7 



3 I 8 TRUE CULTURE AND PROGRESS. 

cording to its skill, then how important that education 
should take in all our nature, and that the mind should 
be trained to the best thoughts. Culture, then, is not 
wholly nor mainly a thing for this world. The laws 
of matter are not its chief concern. Rather, study 
upon those objects of knowledge that are endless and 
changeless, should most seriously engage it. Culture 
should, then, be cognizant, not only of natural science, 
but also of truth and duty, and God and immortality. 
And subjects of study should be ardently pursued in pro- 
portion to their tendency to fit us for endless develop- 
ment of our powers, and endless fields of activity. The 
wise student now-a-days shapes his course toward his 
profession. He reins himself on to the ' one thing' he pro- 
poses to do in life. When the culture of the mind is seen 
to have a direct bearing upon immortal energies, those 
who value those energies, and live for them, will shape 
not only their worship, but also their education, for the 
pursuits of heaven. Indeed, we know not what the 
saints 7 work will be in glory; but we know it will be 
within certain lines; we know it will be in the highest 
ranges of action. It will be according to eternal truth 
and righteousness. And, therefore, the studies now 
that will be of most use then, are those that tend to 
elevation and purity of thought. The knowledge of 
God's works; the study of his providence; the con- 
sideration of truth in its action on human minds; the 
relations between knowledge and character; and, 
above all, the excellence and glory of God — these are 



TRUE CULTURE AND PROGRESS. 3*9 

the themes that will form a culture most in harmony 
with God's word, and, therefore, most in harmony 
with heaven." 

The venerable Mark Hopkins, who was in mind, 
spirit, attainment and character, one of the rarest ex- 
amples of true culture, said that " the aim of the 
highest education is to give character, rather than 
knowledge ; to train men to be rather than to know" 
True culture leads to broad and generous views of 
life and its duties, not desiring self improvement for 
personal gratification merely, but as the acquisition of 
new powers and forces with which to do good. A 
generous heart has said: "Just as we are stewards, 
and not owners, of the material possessions with which 
we are favored by the good God, so are we bound to 
use what knowledge we acquire, for the benefit of our 
fellow-men, and in the service of its Giver. Culture, 
for culture's own sake — of which the apostles of 
" sweetness and light " have so much to say — is a cul- 
ture which not only misses the real value, even to its 
possesssor, of daily use for the benefit of others, but 
also is misused in the sight of God. To hoard a fact 
may be of a far greater wrong than to hoard a gold 
dollar; for both knowledge and money are talents 
which ought to have some better use than to be 
securely hidden. Any well-informed person may be 
quite sure that he knows some things, at any rate, 
which his friends and neighbors do not know, and 
which he can make very effective weapons in the war 



320 TRUE CULTURE AND PROGRESS. 

against ignorance and sin. When you have well 
learned any fact, lay it tip in your mind, not as an 
adornment of your own mental parlor, or as a prized 
possession to gloat over at your leisure, but as some- 
thing for which others have need now, or will soon 
have need. It is a constant surprise to any person 
who really tries to help others with his religious and 
secular knowledge to find how soon he can utilize the 
last thing he has learned. 1 ' This is the culture that 
will renovate the world, and is worthy to be sought by 
every earnest soul. 

On this subject Coleridge writes: " Alas! how many 
examples are now present to memory of young men 
the most anxiously and expensively be-school-mastered, 
be- tutored, be-lectured, anything but educated ; who 
have received arms and ammunition, instead of skill, 
strength, and courage; varnished, rather than polished; 
perilously over-civilized, and most pitiably uncultivated; 
and all from inattention to the method dictated by 
Nature herself — to the simple truth that, as the forms 
in all organized existence, so must all true and living 
knowledge proceed from within; that it may be trained, 
supported, fed, excited, but can never be infused or 
impressed. 

Another benefit of true culture, is to counteract the 
narrowness of views and life which comes from follow- 
ing closely an absorbing pursuit or profession. A 
professional journalist has said, that " the man who is 
proiessional only, whatever his profession be, is apt to 



TRUE CULTURE AND PROGRESS. 321 

find his ideas fashioning themselves after a set pattern, 
his thoughts running into set grooves, and his influence 
after a while growing circumscribed and partial. The 
minister whose entire time and attention are occupied 
by theology ; the lawyer who lives exclusively for the 
rewards of legal ambition; the merchant whose brain 
never emerges from the atmosphere of the warehouse, 
and the doctor who never lifts himself from inspecting 
the pathology of the human body, all alike discover, 
in the course of years, that the world is going on and 
leaving them. They may be profound, but neverthe- 
less they have their shallows. Young people, who 
have not a tithe of their erudition, pass them in the 
race. Their own families begin to regard them with 
a certain benevolent toleration, not unmixed with 
kindly contempt. And this is not the worst result of 
their narrowness. They become insensibly the victims 
of prejudice, and it no longer is in their power, even if 
it be in their will, to form a free, strong, truthful judg- 
ment of any new thing presented to their view. 

"Every professional man should cultivate a knowledge 
of things and of men outside of his special department. 
He should scorn no knowledge that comes to him, 
even if it be of facts quite removed from his ordinary 
needs. 

" Whatever be our dominant engagement in life, we 
need to be broadened and kept sympathetic by some- 
thing which takes us out of ourselves, and leads us up 
from the rut of our ordinary days. ' How cross I 



322 TRUE CULTURE AND PROGRESS. 

could be,' said a tired mother one day not long 
since, ' if I could not rest myself by an hour now and 
then at the organ ! ' Some accomplishment, pursuit or 
study, as far removed as possible from our accustomed 
work, is valuable as an adjunct to broad culture, and 
is beyond price as an assistant to contentment and 
peace of mind." 

After all, the basis of culture is character: " Above 
all things in the world," lately wrote the editor of one 
of our leading American magazines, u character has 
supreme value. A man can never be more than what 
his character — intellectual, moral, spiritual — makes 
him. A man can never do more, or better, than 
deliver, or embody, that which is characteristic of 
himself. All masquerading and make-believe produce 
little impression, and, in their products and results, die 
early. Nothing valuable can come out of a man that 
is not in him - - embodied in his character. Nothing 
can be more unphilosophical than the idea that a man 
who stands upon a low moral and spiritual plane can 
produce, in literature or art, anything valuable. He 
may do that which dazzles or excites wonder or admi 
ration, but he can produce nothing that has genuine 
value; for, after all, value must be measured by the 
power to enrich, exalt, and purify life." 



Good ©al^ei^s and (Salting. 




w OME one has said that, " Conversation is 
the daughter of reasoning, the mother of 
Sjttt knowledge, the health of the soul, the com- 
merce of hearts, the bond of friendship, the 
nourishment of content, and the occupation of men of 
wit." 

There is no accomplishment more desirable than 
that of having the ability to express our ideas in an 
intelligible and agreeable manner, and yet nothing is 
more neglected than the art of acquiring this most in- 
estimable faculty. 

That profound scholar and famous philosopher, Sir 
William Hamilton, says: "Man, in fact, only attains 
the use of his faculties in obtaining the use of speech, 
for language is the indispensable means of the develop- 
ment of his natural powers, whether intellectual or 
moral." 

If, then, the growth of the mind and character de- 
pends so largely on our powers of expression, how 
important that we employ every method of cultivating 
our natural ability in this direction. 

Some one has said, that " the most necessary talent 
in conversation is good judgment." 

" The secret of success lies not so much in knowing 

3 2 3 



324 GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 

what to say, as in what to avoid saying. 11 There are 
brilliant talkers of whom we are always in dread, lest 
they sting us by some careless sarcasm or witty re- 
joinder. Better an eternal silence than to scatter fire- 
brands and cause heartaches; such conversers bring 
upon themselves the well-merited contempt and con- 
demnation of mankind. 

One of the first requisites of conversation is to have 
something worth saying. Lowell once said, " Blessed 
are they who have nothing to say, and cannot be per- 
suaded to say it;" and another remarked, " There are 
few wild beasts to be dreaded more than a communi- 
cative man with nothing to communicate." 

Carlyle, in his rugged, vigorous style, expresses him- 
self quite as strongly to the same point: " Thou who 
wearest that cunning, heaven-made organ, a tongue, 
think well of this: Speak not, I passionately entreat 
thee, till thy thought have silently matured itself, till 
thou have other than mad and mad-making noises to 
emit ; hold thy tongtie till some meaning lie behind it 
to set it wagging. Consider the significance of Si- 
lence; it is boundless, — never by meditating to be ex- 
hausted; unspeakably profitable to thee! Cease that 
chaotic hub-bub wherein thy own soul runs to waste, 
to confused suicidal dislocation and stupor; out of 
silence comes strength." 

The ground work of conversation is knowledge of 
the subject under consideration, and without this, 
words are but useless twaddle. 



GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 325 

Montesquieu said that " a man generally talks in 
proportion to the small degree of thought which he 
possesses, but if he does, he is digging the grave of his 
own reputation." The most brilliant talkers have been 
invariably those whose thirst for knowledge was un- 
quenchable. Madame de Stael could converse with the 
most astute diplomat on political affairs in Europe, or 
meet the most subtle philosopher on his own ground 
in the realm of metaphysics. Burke, one of the most 
wonderful talkers of his time, had an appetite for facts 
and information which was absolutely insatiable. 
Scarcely anything escaped him, and all his vast knowl- 
edge was at command. He would draw from others 
their knowledge of the subject with which they were 
most familiar, and next to his ability for talking him- 
self, was his ability to make others talk. Fox, his 
friend and contemporary, also one of the best 
talkers of his day, was equally distinguished in this re- 
spect ; and it is related that when out once with a hunt- 
ing party, which became scattered by a shower, he 
engaged in conversation with a ploughman under a 
tree, and became an attentive listener to his descrip- 
tion of a new method of planting turnips. 

Next in importance to knowing what to say, is the 
ability to say it — clearly, forcibly and magnetically. 
Thousands who have knowledge, have not the power 
of expression, and thus their wisdom is but of small 
account to others. Even some of the greatest names 
in literature were men who were singularly deficient 



326 GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 

in conversational powers, and sorely disappointed all 
who came in contact with them. Addison, whose 
felicitous style of composition made his writings mod- 
els of purity and grace, was, notwithstanding, a dull 
talker. Buff on, the great naturalist; Descartes, the 
famous philosopher; Gibbon, the famous historian ; and 
a host of other renowned characters, although pos- 
sessed of remarkable genius in their several fields of 
labor, were nevertheless lacking in conversational 
powers. Indeed, William Hazlitt, who was gifted 
with one of the keenest and most critical minds of his 
day, and who enjoyed extraordinary opportunities for 
observation, was of the opinion that authors were not 
fitted, generally speaking, to shine in conversation. It 
is said that neither Pope nor Dryden were brilliant 
conversers; and Horace Walpole used to say of 
Hume, the historian, that he understood nothing until 
he had written upon it, so much better were his writ- 
ings than his conversation. Goldsmith, whose spark- 
ling genius made his books so delightful, was such a 
bungler in speech that one of his friends said of him: 
" He wrote like an angel, but talked like poor Poll." 

Butler, the author of " Hudibras," which charmed 
all England with its humor, and keen satire, once elic- 
ited from a nobleman who sought an interview with 
him, the remark that he was like a nine-pin, " little 
at both ends, and great in the middle." It is said that 
Hogarth and Dean Swift were both absent-minded in 
company; that even Milton was unsocial, and almost 



GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 327 

irritable when pressed into conversation; that Dante 
was either taciturn or satirical; that Tasso was neither 
gay nor brilliant; that La Fontaine appeared heavy, 
coarse and stupid, and could not describe what he had 
just seen; that Chaucer's silence was more agreeable 
than his conversation; that Corneille was so stupid that 
he never failed to weary his auditors; that Southey 
was stiff, sedate, and wrapped up in asceticism, and 
that even " rare Ben Jonson " used to sit silent in 
company. 

But, on the other hand, it is said of Curran, that he 
was a convivial deity, — soaring into every region, and 
at home in all; of Leigh Hunt, that he was like a 
pleasant stream in conversation; but of Carlyle that he 
doubted, objected and demurred, as might have been 
expected. A niece of the Countess of Blessington, who 
had attained considerable celebrity in literary circles, 
said she had known most of the celebrated talkers of 
the day, — among whom were, Rogers, Moore, Sid- 
ney Smith, Brougham, Lord Lyndhurst, and Douglas 
Jerrold. But she says of Buckle, the author of the 
" History of Civilization, 1 ' that " for inexhaustibility, 
versatility, memory and self-confidence, I never met 
any to compete with Buckle. Talking was meat and 
drink to him; he lived upon talk. He could keep pace 
with any given number of interlocutors, or any given 
number of subjects, from the abstrusest point on the 
abstrusest science to the lightest jeu cP esprit, and talk 
them all down, and be quite ready to start afresh." 



328 GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 

It was the custom of Theodore Hook, whose powers 
of talking were marvelous, to be always on the alert 
for bits of brilliant conversation and stray jokes, which 
he took good care to jot down in his note book for 
future use. 

Boswell, that inimitable biographer of Samuel John- 
son, tells us that Sir Joshua Reynolds asked the great 
moralist, who was noted for his wonderful command of 
words, how he obtained his extraordinary accuracy 
and flow of language. Johnson replied that he had 
early laid it down as a fixed rule to do his best on 
every occasion, and in every company; to impart 
whatever he knew in the most forcible language he 
could put it in, and that, by constant practice, never 
suffering any careless expression to escape him, but 
always attempting to arrange his thoughts in the clear- 
est manner, — it became natural to him. In that 
answer he laid bare the secret of his success, and no 
further hint need be expressed as to the best 
method of improvement in this direction. The simple 
plan which made Johnson one of the best talkers of his 
time, will, if followed as faithfully by you, improve 
your power of thought and expression until you are 
amazed at the change observable even by yourself. 

Another of the essentials of good conversation is a 
wide range of information covering almost every con- 
ceivable subject, and the power to marshal it into use 
at a moment's notice. Without this substratum of 
knowledge, a stream of words may have no more 



GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 329 

practical significance than the unmeaning chattering 
of a parrot. A good talker is generally a well in- 
formed man, — he is posted on the current questions of 
the day, is familiar with the intellectual celebrities of 
his own and other countries, is aware of the leading 
discoveries of the world of science, and has an intelli- 
gible estimate of current and standard literature, with 
such material at hand, and with the ability to express 
himself, how can he help but interest and attract all 
who listen to him. This knowledge can be gained 
only by infinite labor and application; and what seem 
to be the brilliant flashes of genius when uttered, are 
more often the product of careful and painstaking 
thought. 

One of the most princely intellects of modern times, 
despite his dissipated habits, was Richard Brinsley 
Sheridan; but when he attempted to make his first 
speech in parliament, it was a total failure. An or- 
dinary mind would have been so chagrined at the de- 
feat as to be discouraged from future attempts, but 
Sheridan was made of different mettle. He went to 
work for seven years cultivating his wit and perfecting 
his powers of expression, and what the result was, the 
history of British statesmanship will attest. One wit- 
ticism which the world will not soon forget, he saved for 
fifteen years before he had an opportunity to use it. It 
was his description of a certain person of whom he said 
that " he trusted to his memory for his illustrations 
and to his imagination for his facts," and, doubtless, 



330 GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 

all who heard it supposed it was an impromptu scintil- 
lation of his brilliant wit. 

Rufus Choate said of Pinckney, the great lawyer: 
" He made it a habit from his youth, whenever he met 
with a choice thought to commit it to memory, and 
Choate himself was not far behind his distinguished 
rival in following the same practice. 

But to converse well, requires more than mere in- 
formation, or knowledge, combined with a ready 
facility of expression. There must also be sound judg- 
ment and a good heart, for without these all other 
triumphs are hollow and delusive. Our conversation 
should be such as will be agreeable to others; the sub- 
ject of it should be appropriate to the time, place and 
company, and we should avoid all bitterness, all 
thoughtless criticisms, all unseemly ridicule, and the 
heartlessness which wounds the feelings and disturbs 
the peace of those who listen to us, — and then our pres- 
ence will be welcomed, and we shall diffuse pleasure 
and promote friendship. All the resources of tact and 
wisdom may be summoned into action in the exercise 
of our colloquial powers. An ancient philosopher made 
it a rule to divide the day into several parts, appoint- 
ing each part to its proper engagement, and one of 
these was devoted to silence wherein to study what to 
say. What innumerable heart-burnings; what a mul- 
titude of family quarrels; what a host of local feuds 
would be avoided, if this wise rule were universally 
followed. 



GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 33 1 

Conversation, like conduct, should be based on 
unselfishness and a sincere desire to please and benefit 
others. If founded on this, there is no danger of our mo- 
nopolizing the entire time of a company, and giving no 
one else an opportunity of expressing his views. It 
was a rule of Dean Swift's to take in conversation as 
many half minutes as he could get, but never to take 
more than half a minute, without pausing and giving 
others an opportunity to strike in. 

There is danger that a good talker may become so 
accustomed to the deference and attention of his listen- 
ers, as to form the habit of talking perpetually, without 
pausing for a reply. Some of the most noted convers- 
es fell into this fault of indulging in monologues. It 
is told of Madame De Stael, that she was once intro- 
duced to a deaf man, and talked with him about an 
hour without noticing that he made no reply. After- 
wards she inquired who he was, making the observa- 
tion " that she thought he was an agreeable gentleman. 11 
One of the best talkers of his day was Coleridge. His 
mind was so acute, and his flow of words so inexhaust- 
ible, that he would talk for hours upon the most 
difficult and abstruse themes in mental philosophy and 
metaphysics. An incident has been related of him 
which, although doubtless an exaggeration, yet illus- 
trates his weakness in the direction we have mentioned. 
Passing down the street one morning, he met Charles 
Lamb, and seizing him by the button, he soon, with 
head thrown back and eyes closed, was fairly launched 



332 GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 

upon the boundless sea of metaphysical vagaries. 
Lamb being a salaried clerk engaged in the employ of 
the East India Company, in whose service punctuality 
was a requisite, was eager to hasten to his business, 
but was greatly at a loss how to free himself from his 
loquacious friend. At last a happy expedient sug- 
gested itself, — he took out his penknife, carefully cut 
the button from his coat which Coleridge had seized, 
and noiselessly slipped away, leaving him fully 
engrossed with his theme. At noon he returned that 
way to dinner, and there was Coleridge still standing 
in the same attitude, holding the button, and threading 
with unabated ardor the bewildering mazes of his 
subtle theme. 

Better than such a habit of substituting monologue 
for dialogue, was the rule followed by a certain eccle- 
siastical dignitary who was himself a splendid talker, 
but who made it a point to draw people out to talk of 
themselves, while he with all the art of a skillful talker 
would become listener. To engage the attention of 
, such a listener was a source of self satisfaction which 
gave them greater pleasure than to hear his eloquence; 
and trkis their favor was won and their friendship 
secured more effectively, than by all the blandishments 
of discourse. 

That wise man, Sir Matthew Hale, laid down this 
excellent rule, which every young person would do 
well to bear in mind: " Let your words be few, espe- 
cially when your betters, or strangers, or men of more 



GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 333 

experience or understanding, are in the place; for you 
do yourself at once two great mischiefs ; you betray 
and discover your own weakness and folly, and you 
rob yourself of that opportunity which you might 
otherwise have, to gain knowledge, wisdom and expe- 
rience by hearing those that you silence by your im- 
pertinent talking."" 

An eminent clergyman once administered this well- 
merited rebuke to a young lady, who had absorbed the 
entire time of the company by her small talk : " Madam, 
before you withdraw, I have one piece of advice to 
give you; and that is, when you go into company 
again, after you have talked half an hour without inter- 
mission, I recommend it to you to stop awhile, and 
see if any other of the company has anything to say." 

But there are a few persons of such rare learning 
and ability that one can well afford, when in their 
company, to be only a listener. Such an one was our 
gifted countrywoman, Margaret Fuller D' Ossoli, 
whose sad end will ever awaken a sympathetic interest 
in her career. We quote this description of her power 
and genius, given by a brilliant journalist: " What a 
wonderful improvisatrice was she! How all knowl- 
edge appeared to be hers, and all the variations of hu- 
man thought, and all the unreckoned opulence of 
language ! Something was there of the queenly and 
tyrannic in her social sway; something of monopoly in 
her monologue : but who was not content to listen and 
to learn? Only the weak and the witless signified 



334 GOOD TALKERS AND TALKING. 

their impatience in that presence! Some said that it 
was lecturing, and some that it was speech making ; 
this one hinted at vanity, and the other at an un- 
gracious engrossment of the time; but after all was 
over, however silent we might have been, we seemed 
to have been asking all the while, and she only gra- 
ciously answering." 

The benefits of well-directed conversation, who can 
estimate? There is a Chinese proverb that " a single 
conversation across the table with a wise man is bet- 
ter than ten years 7 study with books." While this 
may be an Oriental exaggeration of statement, — for no 
social discourse can take the place of a judicious study 
of books, — yet it is nevertheless true, that nothing 
sharpens our intellects, and gives us the facility to use 
our mental resources, more than the contact of mind 
with mind. 

But how comparatively few good talkers there are, 
and how lightly is the art esteemed. And yet, will it 
not always be true that " Words fitly spoken are like 
apples of gold in pictures of silver " ? 




(§>ONSOIiAJHION FOI^ THE DULL. 




CELEBRATED philosopher used to say: 
; ' The favors of fortune are like steep rocks; 
only eagles and creeping things mount to 
the summit." The first, with daring pinions, 
mount to the heights with a few vigorous wing-strokes, 
but they only reach it after all ; and the slow creeping 
things do as much; and although their way is infinitely 
more tiresome, yet the same goal is gained at last. 

There are few who do not at some time come to the 
deliberate conclusion that they are hopelessly dull 
Perhaps, away back in the memories of school life 
they have a distinct remembrance of how, with swim 
ming eyes and choking throat, they were mortified be 
cause they were not able to comprehend their lessons 
while their seat-mate with glib tongue could rattle it off 
as if it were a holiday pastime. And, later in life, how 
often they look back and see in numberless instances 
the blunders they have made, and the mishaps they 
brought on themselves, because they had not the acute 
perceptions, and the intuitive sharpness of their more 
fortunate neighbors. And yet, in the great harvest of 
life, the substantial successes are oftenest reaped, not 
by those whose early precociousness gave promise of 

335 



33^ CONSOLATION FOR THE DULL. 

wonderful powers in maturity, but rather by those 
who were looked upon as dull and stupid; but who 
made up by persistent application, what they lacked in 
keenness of perception and readiness of comprehension. 

Lord Campbell, who became Chief Justice and Lord 
Chancellor of England, and amassed a large fortune, 
began life as a drudge in a printing office. A vigorous 
constitution and sound health was his capital in starting 
in the world, and these, with constant labor and unflag- 
ging energy, brought him up, step by step, from the 
drudgery of the printing office to the magnificent position 
of a counselor of royalty and a peer among peers. 

A close observer thus gives his impressions on this 
subject: "My own personal observation bears me out 
in saying, that persons of moderate mental calibre and 
medium capacity are most likely to live long, health- 
fully, happily and successfully, whether as to making a 
comfortable livelihood, or having a solid influence in 
society." 

Old Roger Ascham, who became famous as the 
tutor of the unfortunate Lady Jane Grey, thus quaintly 
says: " In wood and stone, not the softest, but hardest, 
be always aptest for portraiture; both fairest for 
pleasure, and most durable for profit. Hard wits be 
hard to receive, but sure to keep; painful without weari- 
ness, heedful without wavering, constant without new 
fangleness; bearing heavy things, though not lightly, 
yet willingly; entering hard things, though not easily, 
yet deeply; and so come to that perfectness of learning 



CONSOLATION FOR THE DULL. 337 

in the end, that quick wits seem to hope, but do not in 
deed, or else very seldom, attain unto." 

Alexander Humboldt, that great luminary who 
seemed, like Bacon, to make " all knowledge his prov- 
ince," and whose comprehensive mind seemed able to 
embrace the whole earth in its restless search of in- 
quiry, says of himself that il in the first years of his 
childhood, his tutors were doubtful whether even 
ordinary powers of intelligence would ever be devel- 
oped in him, and that it was only in quite later boyhood 
that he began to show any evidence of mental vigor." 

Sir Isaac Newton, one of the the most extraordinary 
intellectual giants of any age, was in his early years so 
dull a scholar, that his mother took him away from 
school with the intention of making him a farmer. 

Sir Walter Scott, that prince of romancers, who 
peopled the past with such fascinating creations of 
his fancy, was distinguished in his boyhood for his dull- 
ness, and gave no promise of the capabilities within him. 

Moliere, the great French dramatist, was so back- 
ward in his youth, that it was not until he had attained 
his fourteenth year, that he could even read the lan- 
guage which he afterwards made classical. 

A sensible writer, who betrays an intimate knowl- 
edge of the world, says that " there is no talent so useful 
toward rising in the world, or w r hich puts men more 
out of reach of fortune, than that quality generally 
possessed by the dullest sort of people, and in common 
speech called discretion, — a species of lower prudence, 



33$ CONSOLATION FOR THE DULL. 

by the assistance of which people of the meanest in- 
tellect without any other qualification, pass through 
the world with great quality, and with unusual good 
treatment, neither giving nor taking offence." 

One of Ex- President Grant's old schoolmates said: 
" Nobody thought, when Grant was a boy, that he 
would amount to much, — he was only middling in 
his studies, and used to spend a great deal of his 
time in reading the life of Napoleon, which interfered 
considerably with his school duties, until his teacher 
put the book into the stove." But he was punctual 
in his attendance, always amongst the first in the 
morning, and never stayed away unless compelled to 
do so by circumstances. He added, that after the cap- 
ture of Vicksburg, when Grant's old neighbors had not 
heard of him for years, a great many of them did not 
know, or ever imagine, that he was the boy who used 
to go to the old log school-house in the hollow. What 
valuable life-lessons are suggested by this short descrip- 
tion of the youth of one who has made himself so 
conspicuous in the history of our country! 

To be conscious of our defects is of the greatest value 
to us, for then we can apply ourselves to overcome them. 

George McDonald, in describing one of his characters, 
says: " She was not by any means remarkably quick, 
but she knew when she did not understand; and that 
is a sure and indispensable step towards understanding. 
It is indeed a rarer gift than the power of understanding 
itself." 



CONSOLATION FOR THE DULL. 339 

It is doubtless owing to this self-knowledge of their 
early unpromising dullness and stupidity, that so 
many of those, who have enlarged the confines of 
knowledge and contributed to the glory of mankind, 
were able to achieve their success. 

An English writer, with a noble enthusiasm, has ut- 
tered these ringing words for the encouragement of the 
dull, which are as stirring as they are true: " Remem- 
ber, my dull friends, that this doctrine of mine, that a 
thing may have value without having the first value; 
that a thing may be good without being the best, is in 
harmony with nature and revelation. My dull brother, 
I want you in the race of life to take courage; I want 
you to be where the dull ones ever shall shine as the 
stars. Take courage ; you are running the race of life, 
side by side with others whose feet are swift and 
strong. Do not falter. You cannot be first ; try not to 
be last. But you say, " I shall be last, I fear; in spite 
of my best efforts, I can not keep up with others." 
Never mind, Tom; somebody must be last; only 
don't leave the race in despair, and throw your crown 
away. If you must be last, run your fastest — be in as 
soon as you can, and in spite of your wise folk with 
their wise notions, I know One who will come to you 
and put his hand upon your heated brow, and speak in 
voice so full of music, that the angels will stop their 
singing to listen : ' Never mind, Tom, he hath done 
what he could.' " 



Sjhage-Sh^ug^. 




ERHAPS you have taken a part in private 
theatricals, and have developed a natural 
talent for the stage which has surprised your- 
^ self, and, as you have seen the actors on the 
real stage, you have felt confident that you could do 
better yourself. You have been admired and con- 
gratulated by your friends for your histrionic power, 
and you have evoked hearty applause from many 
who have heard you. You like the excitement; 
there is an intellectual zest about it that is posi- 
tively delightful ; and the brilliant costumes, the 
flashing footlights, the murmurs of applause, and the 
consciousness of satisfaction which comes when you 
feel that you are doing well, all contribute to the in- 
tense fascination of the occasion. You are told that 
you were born for the stage, and ought to follow the 
bent of your genius, and, as you see the applause which 
greets some famous actor, you have an intense longing 
to walk in the same path, and win unfading laurels for 
yourself. It seems a pleasant life, full of change, ex- 
citement and honors, and promises to yield you a rich 
pecuniary reward. You have serious misgivings as 
to taking the step, and yet you are inclined to do so. 

34° 



STAGE-STRUCK. 34 1 

Before taking the step, think well over these consider- 
ations : 

Life on the stage is a dog's life for any, except for 
those who stand high in their profession. You are un- 
der the control of managers, who are often men of no 
moral character, and of arrogant and domineering 
manners. There are some worthy and deserving men 
and women who go on the stage, impelled by necessity, 
as they think, or cherishing a fond ambition to rise to 
the highest place in the profession, but the greatest 
number are men and women whose society will be of 
no benefit, either to your moral or intellectual nature. 
Then the life itself is laborious, and entirely different 
from what you imagine as you see the tinsel, and light, 
and apparent gayety of all who participate. But hear 
what is said by those who have tried the experiment, 
and have a personal knowledge of the whole matter. 

That eminent actor, George Vandenhoff, on quitting 
the profession for the practice of law, gave this advice 
to any youth thinking of becoming an actor: " Go to 
sea; go to law; go to church; go to Italy, and strike 
a blow for liberty; go to anything or anywhere that 
will give you an honest and decent livelihood, rather 
than go upon the stage. To any young lady with a 
similar proclivity, I would say, ' Buy a sewing ma- 
chine, and take in plain work first; so shall you save 
much sorrow, bitter disappointment, and secret tears.' " 

The great tragedian, Macready, would never allow his 
daughter to enter a theater, and recorded in his diary 



34 2 STAGE-STRUCK. 

expressions of dissatisfaction with his profession, so 
strong that at times he seemed to loathe it as an 
occupation unbecoming to a gentleman, and too full of 
temptation to be followed by a man who would main- 
tain his honor as a Christian, and only justifies his con- 
tinuance in it, by saying that it was the only profession 
by which he could support his family. 

The celebrated Mrs. Kemble said of acting: "I 
devoted myself to a profession which I never liked or 
honored, and about the very nature of which I have 
never been able to come to any very decided opinion. 
A business which is intense excitement and factitious 
emotion, seems to be unworthy of a man; a business 
which is public exhibition, unworthy of a woman. 
Neither have I ever presented myself before an audi- 
ence without a shrinking feeling of reluctance, or with- 
drawn from their presence without thinking the ex- 
citement I had undergone unhealthy, and the personal 
exhibition odious." 

The Rev. John Hall thus sums up the results which 
attend theater going, and they would apply with ten- 
fold more force to theater acting, so far as their effect 
on moral character is concerned : " Shallowness, a 
false standard of success and gentility, unsettled pur- 
poses in life, enervating amusements (he did not recall 
one theater-goer among his classmates who attained 
success in life), a lack of public spirit, a weak com 
mercial conscience, an exaggerated idea of personal 
freedom, and, finally, feebleness in the religious life " 



STAGE-STRUCK. 343 

It is said that in China the sons of play actors are 
excluded from public life for three generations. How- 
ever intelligent, or educated, or otherwise capable they 
may be, they are supposed to inherit such low, coarse 
natures as to be unfit for public trusts and responsibil- 
ities. 

However severe and unjust such a rule may be, it 
serves to show the demoralizing tendency of theatrical 
life, which even a heathen people have recognized. 

Do not be carried away, then, by any momentary 
fascinations, or false estimates of the stage. Take the 
words and advice of those who have spent in it the 
greater portion of their lives, and know whereof they 
speak. If you have superior talents that would adorn the 
stage, they will be equally valuable somewhere else, 
where they may have full scope for all their powers, 
without incurring the hazards which are inseparable 
from stage life. With the same persistent labor that 
would be required to bring honor and fortune behind 
the footlights, far more desirable prizes of life can be 
gained, which will bring a thousand-fold more sub- 
stantial satisfaction. Many have seen this clearly 
when too late, and at the end of a fitful and exciting 
life have strongly attested their disappointment. 



Y)OW Shall &5e ^[musb Ourselves. 




"43? 

ISHOP HALL says, that "Recreation is 
intended to be to the mind as whetting is to 
the scythe, to sharpen the edge of it, which 
otherwise would grow dull and blunt. He, 
therefore, who spends his whole time in recreation, is 
ever whetting, never mowing ; his grass may grow and 
his steed starve; as contrarily, he that always toils and 
never recreates, is ever mowing, never whetting; 
laboring much to little purpose. As good no scythe 
as no edge." 

There is a tendency to make too much of amuse- 
ments. The children of to-day have so many costly 
toys and games, that they take little pleasure in 
any of them, and treat them as a matter of course. 
The boy with his expensive skates and bicycle is less 
happy than was his grandfather, with the little un- 
painted sled which some member of the family made 
from odd board ends. The girl with her imported 
doll, dressed in its gorgeous costume, does not take 
half the comfort with it that her grandmother did with 
the rag one made by her mother. Our pleasures, like 
our lives, are too artificial; we need to go back to 
more simple ways of living. 

344 



HOW SHALL WE AMUSE OURSELVES. 345 

Ha rriet Beecher Stowe said, that it may be set down as a 
general rule that people feel the need of amusements less 
and less, precisely in proportion as they have solid rea- 
sons for being happy, and there is a profound philosophy 
which underlies this statement. If we lead healthful 
and simple lives, we shall not crave, nor will the mind 
require, exciting amusements, but merely something to 
change the current of our thoughts. During the ter- 
rors of the French Revolution, when blood flowed like 
water in the streets, the theaters were crowded most, 
when the excitement was at the highest pitch; — the 
people sought to be amused with the same intensity 
that they sought to gratify their revenge. The same 
spirit is carried out to-day; — we seek our amusements 
with the same impetuosity and energy that we transact 
our business, and it must be equally exciting and 
absorbing. Hence the great throngs which rush to 
horse-races, base-ball matches, brutal prize fight exhi- 
bitions, and the most sensational forms of theatrical 
entertainments. It is the desire to excite the jaded 
powers by something more exciting, rather than to rest 
and soothe the tired system by natural methods. 

There should be one fixed principle in our amuse- 
ments, the same as in any other conduct of life, and that 
is, the tendency should be upward and not downward; 
they should be elevating and ennobling, and not 
degrading and brutalizing in their influence. No 
noble, earnest character would countenance an amuse- 
ment that would lower his moral tone, or lend his infru- 



34-6 HOW SHALL WE AMUSE OURSELVES. 

ence and example to anything that would lower the 
moral tone of his weaker neighbor. There is a class 
of amusements which unquestionably has this tend- 
ency on many who indulge in them, although they 
can not in themselves be called vicious, or immoral. 
Card playing and dancing are amongst these, and 
although many worthy people may countenance them, 
yet it must be admitted that to many they have a de- 
moralizing tendency. The grand, earnest, noble souls 
who are actuated by lofty aspirations to live exemplary 
lives, and to make the world better because they live 
in it, are not often found around card tables, or on 
dancing floors, while on the other hand these amuse- 
ments find enthusiastic devotees in the ranks of the 
careless, pleasure-seeking, and even vicious multitude. 
An anecdote is related of a young man who had just 
learned to play cards and was so elated with his success 
that he bought a pack, and showed them on his way 
home to an old player. He fingered them over famil- 
iarly, and then returned them, and said, "You had better 
go home and burn them. 1 ' The young man was amazed 
at such advice from such a source, and it set him to think- 
ing that the old player must be able to give advice if any 
one, and it made so deep an impression upon him that 
he never played again. An excellent Christian mother 
said recently, "I was led to believe that if I would 
keep my boys from wanting to play cards away from 
home I must allow them in it under my eye, and we 
played a good deal for a few months, but I saw that 



HOW SHALL WE AMUSE OURSELVES. 



347 



they were becoming absorbed and fascinated by the 
chances of the game ; that it was fast taking the place 
of reading and conversation and all social life, and I 
began to realize that instead of shielding them from 
temptation I was preparing them to fall right in with 
it. We have no more to do with cards at our home." 
It is folly to say that recreation cannot be found except 
in such channels, for literature, music, art, athletic and 
parlor games, and good company, open a wide and 
rational choice to all who may need it. 

The law of amusements should come under the 
domain of the conscience, and be guided by that broad 
and far-sighted judgment, which does not merely con- 
sider the present, but the whole of life. Our amuse- 
ments will then be rational and ennobling, and such as 
we can look back upon at the close of life without 
any regrets. 




CtfHArn Shall Be Done GJuph ©he 

Boys. 




^ORACE Mann, when making an address at 
the opening of a reformatory institution for 
reclaiming vicious boys, said: " It will pay 
if only one boy is saved." After the exer- 
cises were over, a gentleman, in conversing with him, 
asked him whether he had not made an exaggerated 
statement. Mr. Mann replied, " Not if it was my boy." 
Every boy is somebody's boy, and is worth saving. 
Every boy contains within himself wondrous possibili- 
ties, and no one knows what a career may be waiting 
for the little freckled-faced urchin, wearing patched 
clothes and an old straw hat. When a boy, the elo- 
quent George Whitefield was a boot-black; Lincoln 
and Grant were brought up in poverty, and hundreds of 
other great names could be mentioned whose boyhood 
was toilsome and barren. But although the home may 
be humble and poor, the boys have their rights in it, 
and if they are turned out of doors and left to find 
their own amusements and associations, they are de- 
prived of what rightfully belongs to them, — the shel- 
ter and influence of a good home. Some one has well 
taken the part of the boys in this sensible way: " Does 
it not seem as if in some houses there is actually no 

34 8 



WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE BOYS. 



349 



place for the boys? We do not mean little boys — 
there is always room for them; they are petted and 
caressed; there is a place for them on papa's knee and 
at mamma's footstool, if not in her arms; there are 
loving words, and many, often too many, indulgences. 
But the class we speak of now are the schoolboys, — 
great, noisy, romping fellows, who tread on your dress, 
and upset your work-basket, and stand in your light, 
and whistle, and drum, and shout, and ask questions, 
and contradict. 

" So what is to be done with them? Do they not 
want to be loved and cherished now as dearly as they 
were in that well-remembered time when they were the 
little ones, and were indulged, petted and caressed? 
But they are so noisy, and wear out the carpet with 
their thick boots, and it is so quiet when they are gone, 
say the tried mother and the fastidious sister and the 
nervous aunt ; ' anything for the sake of peace ' ; and 
away go the boys to loaf on street corners, and listen 
to the profane and coarse language of wicked men, or 
they go to the unsafe ice, or to the railroad station, or 
the wharves, or the other common places of rendezvous 
of those who have nothing to do or no place to stay. 

" But it is argued that there are few boys who care 
to stay in the house after school, and it is better they 
should play in the open air — all of which is true. We 
argue for those dull days, and stormy days, and even- 
ings, all evenings in which they wish to stay in, or 
ought to be kept in, and in which if kept in, they make 



350 WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE BOYS. 

themselves and everybody else uncomfortable. We 
protest against the usages of those homes where the 
mother is busy with her sewing or her baby, and the 
father is absorbed with the newspaper in the evening, 
which he never reads aloud, and the boys must i sit 
still and not make a noise,' or go immediately to bed. 
They hear the merry voices of other boys in the streets, 
and long to be with them; home is a dull place; they 
will soon be a little older, and then, say they, i we will 
go out and see for ourselves what there is outside 
which we are forbidden to enjoy.'' We protest against 
the usages of those homes where the boys are driven 
out because their presence is unwelcome, and are 
scolded when they come in, or checked, hushed and 
restrained at every outburt of merriment." " Mamma, 
were you ever a boy?" said a bright-eyed, blithe-hearted 
little fellow, when reproved by his mother for his 
merry sport while at play; " Were you ever a boy? 11 

There are other homes where the boys have a wel- 
come place, where they are missed if they are absent, 
and where there ringing voices make melody in the 
house. Listen to the description of such a home ; 

" I heard a father, the other day — a hale, happy 
man — praising his boys, four sturdy fellows, who had 
escaped the dissipation and excitement of a city 
life, and were now as fresh in heart, and as ruddy in 
face, as when they prattled about their mother's knee. 
I had seen so much of parental sorrow over sons gone 
astray, corrupted physically and morally, that I ven- 



WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE BOYS. 35 1 

tured to ask my friend, the happy father, how it was 
that he had been able to save his boys from the con- 
tamination of evil associations and bad habits. 

" The way is simple enough, 1 ' he said, " neither 
original nor in any way remarkable. I keep my boys 
at home evenings, by making their home a pleasanter 
place than they can find elsewhere. 1 save them from 
the temptation of frequenting doubtful places for 
amusement, by supplying them with better pleasures 
at home. Many things which I considered improper, 
or at least frivolous, I encourage now, because I find 
my sons desire them, and I prefer that they may 
gratify their desire at home, and in their mother's 
presence, where nothing that is wrong will come, and 
where amusements which under some circumstances 
may be objectionable lose all their venom, and become 
innocent and even elevating. I have found that the 
danger is more in the concomitants of many amuse- 
ments than in the amusements themselves; that many 
things which will injure a young man in a club, or 
among evil associates, are harmless when engaged in 
with the surroundings of a home. As long as children 
are children they will crave amusement, and no reason- 
ing can convince them that it is wrong to gratify their 
desire. When they hear certain things denounced as 
sinful by those whose opinion they hold in reverence, 
and are tempted, by the example of others who defend 
them, to disobey their parent's wish, and participate in 
them, a long downward step is taken; parental 



352 WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE BOYS. 

authority and parental opinions are held in less rever< 
ence; the home that ostracizes these amusements be- 
comes a dull and tiresome place; and in secret places, 
among companions, they seek for them, until at length 
conscience is seared, filial feeling overcome, and par- 
ents are compelled to sigh over the lost affections and 
confidence of their children. 

" I have endeavored," said this father, " to join with 
my boys, and be a boy with them in their pleasures. 
And I do believe there is no companion they are mer- 
rier with, and delight in, more than the old boy. If I 
think a place of amusement is innocent, and will 
please them, out we go some evening, mother, boys, 
girls and father, and enjoy the world all the more be- 
cause we are together and do not go too often. 

" But we don't care to be out from home much. 
We have a way among ourselves of keeping up a kind 
of reading society, and we are apt to get so engaged 
in the book we are reading, that we feel little like 
leaving it." 

It is difficult to believe that any vicious boy could 
ever be found in such a home as that, or that any 
young man could soon forget its joys and blessings. 




&5hahi Shall Be Done &5ijhh the 

Gii^ls ? 




'VERY father and mother of girls, if they 
realize their responsibility, must feel a pe- 
culiar anxiety as to the future of their daugh- 
ters. Boys are rough and strong, and able 
to undergo hardships and rebuffs, and the more of it, the 
better for them, if they are made of the right stuff; but 
the girls, — they are of finer texture and gentler mould, 
and were not designed for the fierce conflicts and com- 
petition of every-day life. And yet, they must go out 
into the world, must be exposed to its snares and 
temptations, and, possibly, may be obliged to become 
wage-winners for their daily bread. 

If in their early days they have been carefully 
shielded, and surrounded by every luxury, so much the 
worse, for the wheel of fortune may turn, and they may 
be compelled to care for themselves, in all their help- 
lessness and inexperience. 

Such possibilities fill the parental breast with anxiety, 
and should have the effect of surrounding the loved 
ones with every possible safeguard. 

There are a few suggestions which, if heeded, will 
greatly lessen the dangers which have been intimated. 

353 



354 WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE GIRLS. 

No matter what your fortune promises to be, your 
daughter should be brought up from childhood to be 
industrious, and to make herself useful. She should 
learn to have a practical knowledge of housework, be 
taught to keep her clothes in order, and, above alL to 
help herself and others. This will check any tendency 
to selfishness, to love of ease, and a thoughtless waste 
of time, and will be an admirable preparation for the 
more exhaustive studies and duties which are in store 
for her. She should be early taught to have self-re- 
spect, to resent anything which intrudes upon it, and 
to expect a deference and behavior from others which 
will prove an effectual barrier to all undue familiarity. 
She should be early accustomed to detect shams, to 
judge people for what they are, to value character and 
real worth, and not to be carried away by the super- 
ficial accompaniments of dress, manners or pretentious 
surroundings. 

It is easy for a child to be fascinated by the gew- 
gaws and trappings of mere outward appearance, and 
this danger should be anticipated and guarded against 
in the home. 

She should be trained and prepared for some occu- 
pation, whereby she could earn her own livelihood if 
necessary, and should come into contact with life, not 
alone with its joys and pleasures, but she should learn 
something of its trials, sorrows and misfortunes, that 
she may seek to alleviate them in those around her. 

She should be treated by her parents in a reasonable 



WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE GIRLS. 355 

manner, — as a pure, confiding being, unsuspicious of 
evil, with a trustful nature and a guileless heart. The 
Lord Christ prayed, " Lead us not into temptation,' 7 
but thousands of parents thrust their daughters into 
temptation, not by design, for all the world would not 
tempt them to do it knowingly, but from thoughtless- 
ness and ignorance. They have no knowledge of the 
evils and dangers on every side, or if they have, hesi- 
tate to advise and counsel their daughters in regard to 
them, and so fail in their parental duty. How many 
parents allow their daughters to take long journeys 
alone, exposed to all the dangers and contingencies of 
modern travel. How many are careless about the 
company they keep, — satisfied so long as there is an ap- 
pearance of respectability, without troubling them- 
selves about real character and antecedents. How 
many parents allow domestics in their homes whose 
influence and character they know to be poisonous and 
hurtful to their daughters,- but hesitate to remove them 
because of the temporary inconvenience it would occa- 
sion. How many parents allow their daughters to 
read the trashiest and most pernicious French novels, 
or any other injurious literature which they may fancy, 
without a protest, or, if they express disapproval, they 
allow their advice to be set aside, because they can not 
bear to make them unhappy. How many parents 
allow their daughters to grow up with a few shallow 
accomplishments, and with the expectation that they 
will continue to live an idle life if they can but secure 



$$6 WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE GIRLS. 

a husband who will support them. How many parents, 
absorbed in their cares and duties, drift along without 
any particular thought or care of their daughters, — 
they are allowed to go to school, or not, as they please, 
— to attend church, or not, according as they are in the 
mood, to perform certain duties or to neglect them, as 
they may feel inclined, and their whole lives go on in 
this do-as-you-please manner, devoid of high aims, sound 
thinking or noble purposes. 

These are homely and commonplace facts, but 
there are thousands of miserable and wrecked lives, 
for whom the future holds no hope, who could trace 
the beginnings of their downward course to the mis- 
takes which their foolish and ignorant parents have 
made. Parents of girls, look out into the world for 
them, — look not only for the present, but for the future; 
let your years of experience and observation make you 
wise and discerning in those things which will redound 
to their usefulness and happiness here, and their eternal 
good. 




Shall I Send wo (College. 




O many this is an important, but most per- 
plexing question. On the one hand are the 
histories and examples of hundreds of our 
leading statesmen, bankers, merchants and 
business men who are self-made men, and whose expe- 
rience in life would seem to imply that the best college 
is an active and sharp contact with the world, while on 
the other hand are the counsels of leading educators 
who strongly advise a collegiate course. Horace 
Greeley once said in an address to teachers: " I have 
known not less than a thousand thoroughly educated, 
that is, expensively educated, men in New York — 
men who have entered German, or English, or Ameri- 
can colleges and been sent forth with diplomas — who 
are yet utterly unable to earn their bread, and who 
are to-day pacing the stony streets in a vain search for 
something to do." And thus he belittled the advan- 
tages of college training. On the contrary, Dr. Vin- 
cent, one of the ablest and most distinguished educators 
of the century, says " the advantages of going to col- 
lege are five-fold: 

"First. A boy gets a general survey of the field of 
knowledge; he goes up a high mountain and looks out 

357 



35^ SHALL I SEND TO COLLEGE. 

in every direction and forms a general idea of the 
vastness of the field. 

u Second. He acquires a certain amount of mental 
discipline. 

" Third. He is stimulated by the rivalry and com- 
petition which he encounters. 

" Fourth. The advantage of contact with cultivated 
minds, the professors and lecturers being leaders in 
every department of human thought. 

" Fifth. It inspires a man, or should, to study all his 
life, and to grow." 

Said he, "If I wanted to educate my boy for a 
blacksmith, I should first send him to college." 

Some -one has pointedly said u that self-made men 
are indifferently made, and self-educated men are not 
well educated," and this remark is founded upon a 
truth, which no one recognizes more than the men in 
question. The great majority of so-called self-made 
men earnestly deplore that they had not the advan- 
tages of a liberal education, and are amongst the 
warmest advocates of a college course. It has been 
found from careful estimation that the largest num- 
ber of men who are leaders in any department of 
human activity, are graduates from college. There 
are vigorous and brilliant intellects that by force of 
native ability, rise to the highest positions without a 
collegiate training, — and that in spite of early disad- 
vantages, — and there are others with little talent and 
but feeble ambition, who with all the instruction and 



SHALL I SEND TO COLLEGE. 359 

discipline that the best system of studies can afford, 
never rise above mediocrity; but with equal natural 
ability and force of character, the college graduate 
will greatly outstrip the other in the race of life. 

It is, often asked, what is the use of spending years 
in the study of the dead languages, and in studies that 
can have no practical application to the work of life; 
but it must be borne in mind, that the advantage of a 
college training is not merely in the fund of knowledge 
which is accumulated, but in the discipline which the 
mind receives. What constitutes the difference be- 
tween the men who succeed and the men who fail? 
The men who succeed are those whose minds are so 
strengthened and enlarged and disciplined that they are 
the masters of their business or profession. They have 
the comprehensive grasp, the alert mind, the ready 
judgment, the active will, which enables them to act 
promptly, wisely, and firmly in case of emergency, and 
to be masters of the situation. A college training, by 
its thorough discipline, sharpens the mind, makes 
clearer its vision, strengthens its grasp, and though the 
knowledge attained may be in a measure unused and 
forgotten, yet the discipline remains, and that largely 
constitutes the successful man, for the qualities re- 
sulting from that discipline are used as effective 
weapons in the battle of life. 

Wellington said of a famous boys' school, whose strict 
discipline, and obedience to duty developed strength and 
manliness of character: " There was gained the victory 



360 



SHALL I SEND TO COLLEGE. 



of Waterloo ;" and so we may say that in the severe 
studies, the mental struggles, the close, continuous ap- 
plication of the mind to difficult tasks and problems, 
which come in a college training, that there are worked 
out the victories which shall appear in the arena of 
real conflict, years afterward. There are many 
precious things which money cannot buy, and amongst 
them is the inestimable boon of looking out on the 
world with a clear, broad vision, with a consciousness 
that the mind is continually enlarging and expanding, 
and that it grows by what it feeds upon. With the 
studious habits and mental discipline acquired during a 
college career, is it not likely that they will keep the 
mind fresh and active to the close of life; that more in- 
terest will be taken in great events, discoveries, politi- 
cal movements, social problems, and all that pertains to 
human progress and well being? If such is the case, 
and it must be admitted, then a liberal education is not 
only of great practical advantage, but an invaluable 
possession which cannot be estimated from any pecu- 
niary standard. 




G5hahi XJoum GQbn F?aye Done. 




N looking over the names of famous men it is 
surprising to notice how many of them attained 
[*>(§p success in early life. Many of the greatest 
achievements which the world has known were 
wrought by the energy of youth. There is encourage- 
ment to every } 7 oung man in reviewing what has been 
accomplished by those who were doubtless sneered at 
in their day, as unfledged striplings. Genius usually 
betrays itself early in life, and generally secures recogni- 
tion before thirty years is reached. 

Alexander the Great was but eighteen when he won 
his first battle, and was embraced and bidden by his 
father to seek for himself another kingdom, as the one 
he should leave him would be too small for him. At 
twenty, he ascended the throne of Macedon, and died 
at the age of thirty-two, the conqueror of the then 
known world. Hannibal had completed the subjuga- 
tion of Spain before he was. thirty. Caesar was elected 
Pontifex of Rome at twenty-six, although he gained 
his military triumphs after he was thirty. When 
Cortez made his wonderful conquest of Mexico, he 

was little more than thirty, and Nelson and Clive had 

361 



3& 2 WHAT YOUNG MEN HAVE DONE. * 

both made themselves famous by their remarkable 
military genius while they were yet young men. 
Napoleon, at twenty-six, was in command of the Army 
of the Interior, at twenty-seven he executed his grand 
campaign into Italy which brought him such renown, 
and at thirty-six he became First Consul, and virtual 
ruler of France. Washington at twenty-two, had ac- 
quired a reputation as an able military commander. 

In the ranks of literature, we find that Virgil was the 
first among Latin poets before he was thirty, and Hero- 
dotus, at twenty-eight, had recited his nine books of 
history at the Olympic games. Plato at twenty, was the 
friend and peer of Socrates, and Aristotle at seventeen, 
had distinguished himself in his studies, and attracted the 
attention of the wisest men. Bacon was a student of 
law at sixteen, and even then had laid the basis of his 
system of philosophy, and begun to revolutionize the 
thought of the world. Sir Isaac Newton when twenty- 
four, had laid the foundation of his enduring fame. 
Shakspeare wrote his " Venus and Adonis " at twenty- 
nine, and probably was writing his earliest plays before 
he was thirty. Spencer published his first book at 
twenty-six, Ben Jonson had written successful plays 
before he was twenty-five, and Jeremy Taylor at 
eighteen was preaching *in St. Paul's Cathedral in 
London to large and spellbound audiences. 

Milton was but seventeen when he wrote that 
exquisite poem, " Lines to a Fair Infant," and but 
twenty-one when he composed his u Hymn on the 



WHAT YOUNG MEN HAVE DONE. 363 

Nativity," the grandest religious lyric poem in any 
language; Pope composed the " Ode to Solitude," and 
part of an epic poem when about twelve. At sixteen 
he had begun his " Pastorals," and at twenty-three had 
finished his " Essay on Criticism." Dr. Samuel John- 
son was in the full tide of his literary career long 
before he was thirty. All the writings of Thomas 
Chatterton, the most remarkable youthful prodigy in 
the field of literature, were finished before he was eight- 
een. Burns, Campbell, Byron, Shelley, Keats, Ten- 
nyson, our own poet Bryant, and many others of the 
most gifted writers, had done their most effective 
literary work before the age of thirty. 

If we look amongst artists, we shall find that Leo- 
nardo da Vinci, whose extraordinary versatility of gen- 
ius, as painter, sculptor, architect, engineer and sci- 
entist, made him one of the most remarkable men of 
any age, gave evidence of his wonderful talents in his 
youth. Michael Angelo was little more than twenty- 
one when he carved his celebrated colossal statue of 
David, and at twenty-eight competed with da Vinci, 
then in the zenith of his fame, for the commission to 
paint the council hall at Florence. 

At twenty, Raphael had painted his famous picture, 
"The Espousals;" at twenty-five he was summoned 
to adorn with his immortal cartoons the walls of the 
Vatican. 

Amongst musical composers who evinced their 
wonderful genius at an early age, was Beethoven, 



364 WHAT YOUNG MEN HAVE DONE. 

who published a volume of songs at thirteen. Mozart 
began composing when a child of four years, and at 
eight his symphonies formed a part of the programme 
in his London concerts. At sixteen he had composed 
operas, symphonies and many other works. 

Mendelssohn began to perform in public in his ninth 
year, and had published many compositions at fifteen 
years of age. Handel composed many works before 
he was thirteen, and wrote an opera before he was 
twenty. 

Amongst orators and statesmen who won youthful 
fame, was William Pitt, who was Prime Minister of 
England at twenty-five ; and although matched against 
intellectual giants, such as Fox and Burke, yet he sus- 
tained himself with the greatest success. At the same 
age, Demosthenes was the greatest orator of Greece, 
and Cicero, of Rome. 

Grotius, one of the best authorities on the science of 
jurisprudence, was in the practice of his profession at 
seventeen, and was Attorney General at the age of 
twenty-four. 

Gladstone, at thirty-three, was one of the leaders in 
the British House of Commons, and Gambetta was, at 
the same age, the leader of advanced republican ideas 
in the French Assembly. 

Amongst divines, Calvin, at twenty-seven, had sent 
out in the world those " Institutes," which have so 
profoundly affected the theological thought of the 
world ever since. 



WHAT YOUNG MEN HAVE DONE. 365 

At twenty-five, Edwards and Whitefield were the 
great pulpit orators of their times; and John Wesley, 
when a mere stripling, had fully entered on his extra- 
ordinary career. Luther was at the height of his in- 
fluence at thirty-five, and Pascal, at the age of sixteen, 
was an author of note. 

These instances might be multiplied, to show that 
on the brow of the young has been placed the crown 
of immortality. 

Young men, do not despair simply because you are 
young; let not this restrain the enthusiasm and stifle 
the noble aspirations of your glorious youth. Be as- 
sured that what others have done, you may also do. 

Upon you will soon rest all the mighty interests of 
this busy world. You are to be the inheritors of sen- 
ates and thrones, of powerful states and populous cities; 
you are to keep in motion the white wings of com- 
merce, and the countless wheels of the craftman's skill; 
to repeat history, by doing again what others have 
done before you. What a glorious arena for action 
is yours. How great the stimulus to lofty aspira- 
tions and noble lives. 

In looking over the record of what young men have 
done, how it should animate the heart, and kindle the 
desire to emulate their example, and to achieve their 
success. 



KJhajh E?lug^ (§an Do. 




OST minds are so constituted as to require 
a stimulus to arouse their noblest energies; 
and one of the best means to awaken our dor- 
mant powers, is the knowledge of what oth- 
ers have done under circumstances similar to our own. 
The spirit of emulation is one of the most powerful in- 
centives to action which we possess; it makes the dull, 
careless student become a paragon of industry and zeal, 
the unsuccessful business man watchful and energetic, 
and often brings those who occupy a mediocre position 
to high places of power and influence. It is encourag- 
ing to even the dullest mind, to see what pluck has done 
in spite of poverty, obscurity and the most unfavorable 
circumstances, and how many of the world's best 
workers and profoundest thinkers have risen from 
unpromising beginnings. 

Robert Chambers, the founder of the great Scotch 
publishing house whose name has become a household 
word in thousands of homes, was in his youth exceed- 
ingly poor. From the profits of a little book stall, he 
saved a sum equal to about fifteen dollars, with which 
he purchased a second-hand press and a small supply 

of type. Although not a printer, he toiled patiently 

366 



WHAT PLUCK CAN DO. 367 

for several months to get out an edition of seven 
hundred and fifty copies of a small song-book, and from 
the sale of these made a profit of about nine pounds. 
From such a small beginning grew one of the largest 
publishing houses in the world. 

Mr. Tinsley, the editor of Tinsley s Magazine, and 
the publisher of numerous books, worked as a farmer's 
boy in his youth, and received his education in a national 
school. Sir Ashley Cooper, the celebrated English 
surgeon, when a poor student in Edinburgh University, 
lived in an upper room at an expense of about a dollar 
and a half a week. After he received permission 
to practice, he went to London, and for the first year 
his whole income amounted only to twenty-five dollars; 
but this was the beginning of a practice which in some 
years amounted to over one hundred thousand dollars. 
An incident is related of the late Napoleon III., who, 
though not scrupulous as to the means employed to 
accomplish his ends, was yet a wonderful example of 
what pluck and energy can do. At a dinner party 
given in 1837, at the residence of Chancellor Kent, in 
New York city, some of the most distinguished men 
in the country were invited, and among them was a 
young and rather melancholy and reticent Frenchman. 
Prof. Morse was one of the guests, and during the 
evening he drew the attention of Mr. Gallatin, then a 
prominent statesman, to the stranger, observing that his 
forehead indicated great intellect. " Yes, 1 ' replied Mr, 
Gallatin, touching his own forehead with his finger t 



368 WHAT PLUCK CAN DO. 

" there is a great deal in that head of his; but he has a 
strange fancy. Can you believe it ? he has the idea that 
he will one day be the Emperor of France ! Can you 
conceive of anything more absurd?" It did seem 
absurd, for he was then a poor adventurer, an exile 
from his country, without fortune or powerful connec- 
tions, and yet, in fourteen years after, his idea became 
a fact, — his dream was realized. True, before he 
accomplished his purpose there were long dreary years 
of imprisonment, exile, disaster, and patient labor and 
hope, but he gained his end at last. 

Mr.. Crossley, the founder of the immense English 
carpet manufactory, when a young man married a 
thrifty servant girl, who had saved about forty pounds, 
and with this they set up a shop in which various use- 
ful articles were sold, until, their means accumulating, 
it was enlarged, when they restricted themselves to 
the sale of carpets only. From a single loom the busi- 
ness increased, until the establishment has spread into 
a town by itself, and employs five thousand people, be- 
coming one of the largest industrial enterprises in the 
world. 

Michael Faraday was one of the most distinguished 
chemists and lecturers in England, and owed his success 
to his indomitable energy. He did not have even a 
good common-school education to begin with, but was 
apprenticed to a bookbinder, and read diligently many 
of the books sent to be bound. Some books on chemis- 
try and electricity turned his attention to science, and 



What pluck can DO. 369 

he began to make experiments. At first with a vial 
for an electrical machine, and a battery made by him- 
self of small pieces of zinc and copper, he began his 
career, and by improving every opportunity, steadily 
rose in public esteem, and became one of the leading 
scientific men of his country. 

The early struggles of the martyred Lincoln are 
well-known; how he eagerly devoured by the light of 
the rude fireplace, the few books he could obtain in 
the intervals of his work; how he split rails and run a 
flat boat when a young man, and acquired his profession 
in spite of great obstacles. 

About a hundred years ago, a poor boy, who 
blacked the boots of the students of Oxford University, 
raised to himself, by his bright face and obliging dis- 
position, friends who determined to assist him to enter 
the university. He became a most diligent student in 
that institution, applying himself to his studies with un- 
remitting energy, as if afraid to lose a moment of his 
time. That boy is known to the world as one of the 
most eloquent orators of modern times, and the name 
of George Whitefield will long be honored as one of 
the noblest characters of his age. 

Erastus Corning, of New York, too lame to do hard 
work, commenced life as a shop boy in Albany. When 
he first applied for employment, he was asked: " Why, 
my little boy, what can you do?" " I can do what I 
am bid," was the answer, and it secured him a place. 

Dr. Adam Clarke, one of the greatest biblical and 



37° WHAT PLUCK CAN DO. 

oriental scholars, was once a poor, barefooted, Irish 
boy, with such a passionate love of learning that he 
would travel miles to get a sight of books from which 
he could gain information, — following one time a camp 
of gypsies so as to get access to a book which he 
wished to study. So varied was his learning, that he 
was on one occasion introduced to two Indian gentle- 
men by the Duke of Sussex, uncle to Queen Victoria, 
with the remark: " Here is my friend, Dr. Adam 
Clarke, who will speak Persic and Arabic with any of 
you." 

A remarkable instance of what pluck can do was 
exhibited by a lawyer of Philadelphia, who started in 
life as a farm laborer, but, having determined to be- 
come rich, he prepared himself and entered upon the 
practice of law, and, finally, became worth about a 
million of dollars. About a week before his death, he 
said: "I started out, when I commenced the practice 
of the law, with the idea of dying the richest man at 
the bar who had made his own money. I believe I 
shall; and that idea is realized." While this, as the 
chief purpose of life, is a paltry and unworthy ambition, 
yet it illustrates what energy and toil can accomplish. 

A striking incident is related of the early experience 
of George Law, who, in his day, was one of the most 
conspicuous financiers and capitalists of New York 
City. When he was a young man, he went to New 
York, poor and friendless. One day he was walking 
along the streets, hungry, not knowing where his next 



WHAT PLUCK CAN DO. 371 

meal would come from, and passed a new building in 
course of erection. Through some accident, one of 
the hod carriers fell from the structure and dropped 
dead at his feet. Young Law, in his desperation, ap- 
plied for the job to take the dead man's place, and the 
place was given him. He went to work, and this was 
how one of the wealthiest and shrewdest New York 
business men got his start. 

These examples are but a few of the thousands of 
instances where pluck and an indomitable will have 
made their way in spite of all obstacles. Were the 
history written of all who, by these helpers, have 
achieved success, whole libraries would not contain 
their record. 

Young man, do not let your heart sink because you 
have never seen the inside of a college, and possess 
only a common-school education; because you seem to 
yourself so dull and stupid, compared to many who 
appear so quick-witted and wise; because you may 
not be able to wear such good clothes, or have not the 
easy, polished address of others, who are favorites in 
society; because your arms seem so short, and the 
prizes of life so high; remember, that thousands 
have started in the world with advantages infinitely 
poorer than your own, and yet have left their names 
and deeds on the roll of fame; remember, that the 
very struggles and obstacles which you think will 
prevent you from rising, are the tests by which jou 
are measured, and if you have not the pluck and 



372 WHAT PLUCK CAN DO. 

bravery to grapple with them, you are not worthy to 
enter into the company of those great souls who have 
won the victory. 

Think of Luther, when a youth, going barefooted 
about the streets, singing for a morsel of bread; of 
Columbus, wandering about in poverty, begging the 
privilege of being allowed to discover a new continent ; 
of Bonaparte, a poor, pale-faced student, his body 
worn almost to a shadow by years of continued study ; 
of Samuel Johnson, walking the streets of London for 
want of a lodging; are the difficulties you encounter 
more formidable than were theirs? With your spirit 
stimulated by these examples, and guided by a pure 
principle and a lofty purpose, you, too, can achieve 
success, — not a success, perhaps, which will fill the 
mouths of men with your deeds, for this is accorded 
to but few, but the success of making the best of your 
opportunities, of living a useful life, full of good deeds 
and influences, and leaving the world better than you 
found it. 

The heights by great men gained and kept, 
Were not attained by a sudden flight; 

But they, while their companions slept, 
Were toiling upwards in the night. 

Longfellow, 




F)AI^D COOI^ BETTER ©HAN GENIUS. 




(^SAGACIOUS statesman, when told what a 
talented boy his son was, exclaimed, " I 
would rather you had told me how industri- 
ous he was." When a scholar was com- 
mended to a famous educator as a quick wit, he would 
say: " Out upon him; I will have nothing to do with 
him; give me the plodding student." 

'Dr. Arnold said: " That the difference between 
one man and another, is not so much in talent as in 
energy.'' In looking over the records of great men, 
we find it to be generally true that they were prodig- 
ious toilers, and usually attributed their greatness 
more to their capacity for labor than to any remarkable 
quality of mind which they possessed. 

Macaulay said of Frederick the Great that " he 
loved labor for its own sake. His exertions were such 
as were hardly to be expected from a human body or a 
human mind. He rose at three in summer and four in 
winter." The king, in a letter to Voltaire, thus 
gives a glimpse of the severe daily toil to which 
he subjected himself: " As for my plan of not 
sparing myself, I confess that it is the same as before. 
The more one nurses one's self, the more feeble and 
delicate does the body become. My trade requires 

373 



374 HARD WORK BETTER THAN GENIUS. 

toil and activity, and both my body and my mind 
must adapt themselves to their duty. It is not neces- 
sary that I should live, but it is necessary that I should 
act. I have always found myself the better for this 
method." 

Is it to be wondered at, that a man of such iron will, 
tremendous energy, and capacity for labor, should, in 
spite of a feeble constitution, and frequent intense 
bodily pain, make himself one of the powers of his age, 
and one of the greatest names in modern history. 

It has been a popular impression, supported by 
Wirts biography of him, that Patrick Henry was an 
indolent and rather illiterate young lawyer, who made 
the famous revolutionary speech which has made his 
name immortal, by a sublime flight of genius and with 
but little preparation; but his relatives have revealed 
to the world, that hard work with him, as with others, 
was the secret of his wonderful oratory. He had a 
choice library, was a good Latin and Greek scholar, 
and was accustomed to spend hours daily in close 
study. 

Peter the Great set his subjects an example of daunt- 
less activity. It was his custom to visit workshops 
and manufactories of all descriptions, to learn what he 
could introduce into his own country; and at one time 
he disguised himself and passed a whole month in ex- 
tensive forges, and there learned the trade of a black- 
smith. 

Beethoven had the power to concentrate his mind 



HARD WORK BETTER THAN GENIUS. 375 

for hours on his wonderful creations of harmony; and 
so abstracted would he become, that he was entirely 
secluded from the world about him. He would go 
over his works again and again, with the most patient 
care, until he brought them to the utmost degree of 
perfection. 

Elihu Burritt, the learned blacksmith, was an 
apprentice at the forge from sixteen to twenty-one 
years of age. With his books set against the chimney, 
he would study while he blew the bellows; and in this 
way he mastered the English and Latin grammars, 
and acquired a tolerable knowledge of some other 
languages. Dr. Adam Clarke said: "I have lived 
to know that the great secret of human happiness is 
this: Never suffer your energies to stagnate. The 
old adage of ' too many irons in the fire ' conveys an 
untruth. You cannot have too many — poker, tongs 
and all, — keep them all going." It was said by Lord 
Cecil of Sir Walter Raleigh, " I know that he can toil 
terribly; " and Lord Clarendon said of Hampden, that 
pure patriot and wise counselor : " He was of an indus- 
try and vigilance not to be tired out or wearied by the 
most laborious.'" Bulwer Lytton, although born a noble- 
man, possessed of fortune, and mingling in society that 
might be expected to lead a man into habits of inglo- 
rious ease, was yet exceedingly industrious, and per- 
formed an amount of labor which would appall most 
men. He was the author of seventy volumes, and 
although he was so prolific a writer yet he did not neg 



376 HARD WORK BETTER THAN GENIUS. 

lect the requirements of his high social position, nor the 
duties of the political office which he was called to fill. 
In doing this enormous amount of literary work, we 
are told that he only devoted three hours a day to 
study; but of those three hours he said, " I have given 
my whole attention to what I was about." Goethe, 
the great German poet and philosopher, although pos- 
sessed of uncommon natural brilliancy of intellect, was 
yet a prodigy of industry, without which his genius 
would have been like a meteor's flash, — a moment 
filling the heavens with lurid light, and then extin- 
guished forever in the darkness of oblivion. 

A poor and friendless lad, twelve years old, while 
on a journey, and footsore and hungry, called at a 
tavern, and asked to saw wood to pay for a lodging 
and breakfast. The request was granted, and then 
the waif drifted out again into the wide world. Fifty 
years after, he called there again, and was known as 
George Peabody, the banker, one of the greatest bene- 
factors to his race of this century. 

Such are the triumphs of hard work, and such are 
the transformations it has wrought. It often seems 
useless and thrown away; it often seems fruitless of 
results; but persevere, and it leads to victory. 

A noted divine once said: " Of all work that pro- 
duces results, nine-tenths must be drudgery." 

Bishop C. H. Fowler, who is himself an example of 
indomitable energy, has said, that " it is one of the great 
encouragements of our age, that ordinary men, with 



HARD WORK BETTER THAN GENIUS. 



377 



extraordinary industry, reach the highest achieve- 
ments." 

Years ago, the historian, Motley, came before the 
public, and at once took his place in the front rank of 
historians. The secret was that, patiently and silently, 
in the obscurity of private life, he had given years to 
careful, preparation, and the collecting and arranging 
of vast stores of material for his works. 

Lord Wellington, the famous " Iron Duke," the 
hero of Waterloo, said, that " no one ever stumbled 
on a victory." 

Greatness is a plant of slow growth, and must be 
nurtured by industry. How fitting, then, the admoni- 
tion of that wise founder of a commonwealth, William 
Penn: " Love, therefore, labor: if thou shouldst not 
want it for food, thou may est for physic. It is whole- 
some to the body, and good to the mind; it prevents 
the fruit of idleness." 




<9HE ^B^ILS OF OVBI^WO^. 




% AID Samuel Bowles, the accomplished 
journalist, to a friend, just before his death: 
s^$ " Nothing is the matter with me, except 
thirty-five years of hard work." He had fol- 
lowed his laborious profession year after year, with cease- 
less and intense application, and at last his indomitable 
will and ardent enthusiasm could sustain him no longer, 
his vitality was exhausted, the overworked system was 
worn out, and the end speedily came. His valuable 
life and services might probably have been saved for 
ten or twenty years longer, had he taken a wise pre- 
caution in time in regard to his health. This is the 
history of thousands of our best business men, who are 
cut off by overwork long before they reach old age. 

It has been said of Mendelssohn, the eminent composer, 
that " His premature death was as complete a case 
of suicide as if he had daily opened a vein in his arm, 
and deprived himself of an ounce of blood. He lived 
at high-pressure speed wherever he was, and whatever 
he was doing. When he was paying his addresses to 
the lady whom he soon after married, he was so ill 
through excitement that his doctor sent him off to 
take a course of sea-bathing to strengthen his nerves 
before he made the lady the offer he was contemplat- 

378 



THE PERILS OF OVERWORK, 379 

ing. After the sister's death, which told so heavily 
upon him, he resumed his labors with eager haste and 
burning zeal, in spite of repeated headaches and 
attacks of faintness. His wife in vain entreated him 
to spare himself. ' Let me work on, 1 he said. ' For 
me, too, the hour of rest will come.' When his 
friends assailed him with similar remonstrances he 
replied, ' Let me work while it is yet day. Who 
can tell how soon the bell may toll? ' Who, indeed, 
they might have added, when the first laws of nature 
are violated? " 

The old proverb, that "It is the last straw that 
breaks the camel's back, 1 ' has a significant application 
when applied to overtaxing our physical powers. 
The human system is capable of performing an 
immense amount of labor without injury, but the labor 
accomplished after we reach the point of endurance is 
comparatively small, so that there is really but little 
gained by over-working, even in the amount of labor 
performed. Many a man breaks himself down, and 
either dies prematurely, or else becomes unable to do 
a man's work, just because he does not heed the warn- 
ings of his exhausted nature, and stop in time. 

How much better to keep safely within the limit of 

one's powers, even looked upon as a matter of capacity 

for work, to say nothing of prolonging life. Some one 

Aas called attention to this universal evil in these words : 

" As a nation, we are notoriously an active, restless 
race of people. Each minute must turn out coin of 



380 THE PERILS OF OVERWORK. 

less or greater denomination, or must add to the 
laurels of our brows, else the poor-house is brought 
into the imagination, or the spectre of a fameless name 
haunts our sleeping and our waking hours. We be- 
grudge ourselves the respite of the legal holidays, and, 
if it were wholly a matter of choice, and were con- 
sidered to be the proper thing to do, we would even 
toil on the Sabbath, if we could thereby increase 
our stock of gain or fame. Of all the evils which 
spring from love of money, none are more to be de- 
plored than that inordinate desire for wealth or fame 
which is gratified at the expense of health. We must 
rest. Take life easier. Carry our vacations along 
with us — not postpone them until too late. Nature 
demands daily rest. She will have it, or ruin impends. 
The increase of paralysis and apoplexy is not due to 
extraneous and accidental causes, by no means. We 
bring them upon ourselves by our habitual " digging. " 
We exhaust ourselves in a few years, and then death 
gathers us in the twinkling of an eye. As a people, 
we need education in the science of "taking a rest." 
Another writer has forcibly noticed some of the re- 
sults of this incessant strain, and his views will be con- 
firmed by the most skillful medical authorities. He 
says: " Everywhere the increase of nervous disorders 
shows the fearful strain which life in the crowded por- 
tions of this country makes upon the vital powers. 
The statistics of Chicago, the typical American city 
for business energy, show that her unexampled growth 



THE PERILS OF OVERWORK. $2l 

has been accompanied by a fearful increase in the re- 
lative number of nervous diseases. These facts, which 
are more or less true of all our cities, inculcate a ter- 
rible lesson of the dangers of our feverish passion for 
excitement. Incessant hurry alike in business and 
pleasure, and the consequent lack of the steadiness 
which gives stability to character and life, are leaving 
their traces in many premature graves and broken- 
down constitutions, and in the physical and mental ten- 
dencies which will transmit to future generations the 
evils of the present. In view of the rapid rate at 
which we are rushing to wealth and exhaustion, is it 
not time to sound the warning cry?" 

These observations are applicable alike to both 
sexes, for all over our country there are thousands of 
wives and mothers who are overtaxing their powers 
and breaking down under the strain of overwork, even 
before they reach middle life. The following is given 
as an incident from real life, and it is not as much of 
an exaggeration in many cases as might be supposed. 
A farmer, on meeting the neighborhood physician, said: 
" If you git out my way any time, doctor, I wish you'd 
stop and see my wife. She says she aint feelin' well." 

"What are some of her symptoms?" 

a Well, I dunno. This mornin', after she'd milked 
the cows, and fed the stock, and got breakfast for the 
hands, and washed the dishes, and built a fire under 
her soft-soap kettle, and done a few chores 'bout the 
house, she complained o' feelin' kinder tired. I 



382 THE PERILS OF OVERWORK. 

shouldn't be s 'prised if her blood was out o' order, and 
I'd hate to have her git down sick, with the busy 
season just comin' on. Mebbe you'd better give me a 
dose of medicine for her." 

We are responsible for the care of our bodies, and 
why should we not exercise at least as much judgment 
and discretion in their use as we should if using a deli- 
cate piece of mechanism. Some one has said that a 
man is a fool if he does not understand the care, the 
needs, and the capacity for labor of his mind and body 
by the time he is forty years of age, and with reason- 
able precautions and moderation, life can not only be 
prolonged, but pain be prevented, serious pecuniary 
losses averted and an immeasurable store of happiness 
and blessings added to our experience. The wealth of 
a Croesus, or alj the laurels that fame can bring, afford 
poor consolation to their possessor, if they have been 
gained at the cost of a worn-out system, or even en- 
feebled energies. And yet, how many, in their mad 
haste for these fleeting shadows, are not only wasting 
their capacity to enjoy life, but also cutting short their 
careers with a profligate's folly. 




Y)OW mO I^EEP GJeLIi. 




T has been said by one 7 who, doubtless, suf- 
fered from the pangs of ill-health, that " of the 
P(§C hundred good things in this life, ninty-nine are 
health." And yet, so long as we are well we 
do not realize it, nor do we value sound health as one 
of the choicest boons that can be bestowed upon us, 
until it is ours no longer. It has been said that " all 
admit it a sin to steal, but it is no less a sin to break 
laws on which the very potency of bodily organization 
is founded, or those laws on which mind power turns." 
The greatest danger to health is in the small beginning 
of diseases. If the simple maxim, which it is said has 
been borne to us on the hoary centuries from old Plutarch, 
had been observed, what vast multitudes would have 
been spared from the ravages of disease. " Keep your 
head cool, and your feet warm. Instead of employing 
medicine for every indisposition, rather fast a day, and 
while you attend to the body, never neglect the mind." 
The celebrated Dr. Abernethy, one of the brightest 
ornaments that ever adorned the medical profession, 
thus states the causes of disease: " I tell you, honestly, 
what I think is the cause of the complicated maladies 
of the human race, — it is their gourmandizing, and stuff- 
ing, and stimulating their digestive organs to an excess, 

383 



384 HOW TO KEEP WELL. 

thereby producing nervous disorders and irritations. 
The state of their mind is another grand cause, — the 
fidgeting and discontenting themselves about what 
cannot be helped ; passions of all kinds — malignant pas* 
sions pressing upon the mind disturb the cerebral ac* 
tion, and do much harm.'" 

One of the most eminent physicians of our own 
country stated in a public lecture, that the art of health 
consists primarily in judicious diet. 

There is an old English proverb which says, that 
the best physicians are Dr. Diet, Dr. Quiet, and Dr. 
Merryman. 

A noted physician, whose writings have done much 
to set before the people the simplicity of preserving 
good health, says that the best medicine in the world, 
more efficient to cure disease than all the potencies of 
the materia medica, are warmth, rest, cleanliness, and 
pure air. 

It is said that when one of the most renowned physi- 
cians in France was on his death-bed, he was visited by 
the foremost medical men of Paris, who deplored the 
loss which the profession would sustain in the death of 
one whom they looked upon as occupying the first 
place. The dying man assured them that he left be- 
hind three physicians much greater than himself, and 
when asked their names, replied: " Their names are 
Water, Exercise and Diet. Call in the services of the 
first freely, of the second regularly, and the third 
moderately. Follow this advice and you may well 



HOW TO KEEP WELL. 385 

dispense with my aid. Living, I could do nothing 
without them; and dying, I shall not be missed, if you 
make friends of these my faithful coadjutors." 

From the accumulated wisdom of these illustrious 
medical experts, we find that the preservation of health 
can be reduced to a few simple rules. Eat plain, well- 
cooked, nutricious food, which will make good blood; 
eat deliberately, masticate thoroughly, and partake 
but moderately of any liquid at meals. The ice water 
which is drank so freely by many at their meals, is of 
great injury to the stomach. 

In regard to the quantity of food, be guided by your 
occupation and bodily condition. If of delicate con 
stitution and sedentary life, eat lightly ; but if of robust 
health and active life, the appetite is a safe monitor. 

It is said that if one wishes to become fleshy, a pint 
of milk, taken before retiring every night, will soon 
produce that result. 

Never begin a journey before breakfast is eaten, as 
the system is then more susceptible to disease and 
malarial influences. 

Cleanliness is required not only for health, but de- 
manded by decency. Carlyle is not too extravagant 
in his expressions, when he thus enumerates the phys- 
ical and moral renovation of this virtue'. "What 
worship is there not in mere washing? Perhaps one 
of the most moral things a man in common cases has 
it in his power to do. Strip thyself, go into the bath, 
or were it into the limpid pool of a running brook, 



3^6 HOW TO KEEP WELL. 

and there wash, and be clean; thou wilt step out again 
a purer and a better man. This consciousness of per- 
fect outward purity, — that to thy skin there now ad- 
heres no foreign speck or imperfection, — how it radi- 
ates on thee with cunning symbolic influences to thy 
very soul! Thou hast an increased tendency toward 
all good things whatsoever." 

In our variable climate of many severe changes, 
warmth is an important requisite to health. In cold 
and changeable weather wear flannel next to the skin. 
The neglect to do this is the most frequent cause of 
that terrible affliction, rheumatism. Those who are 
easily chilled on going out of doors, should give addi- 
tional protection to the lungs. 

Never stand still when out of doors in cold weather, 
after becoming warmed by exercise. In going into a 
colder air, keep the mouth closed, so that the air, in 
passing through the nose and head, may become 
warmed before reaching the lungs, thus preventing 
those shocks and chills which often lead to pleurisy, 
pneumonia, and bronchial diseases. George Catlin, 
famous for his life among the Indians, thought that the 
Indian habit of breathing through the nostrils, instead of 
through the mouth, is one chief cause of their fine health. 

After speaking or singing in a warm room in winter, 
do not leave the room until you have somewhat cooled 
off, and then take the precaution of protecting yourself 
well from the change of temperature. 

But of all parts of the body, there is not one which 



HOW TO KEEP WELL. 387 

should be more carefully attended to than the feet. 
Wear good woolen stockings and thick-soled boots 
and shoes in cold weather. The feet are so far distant 
from the heart that the circulation may be easily 
checked, and serious, or even fatal, illness follow. 
India rubber overshoes should not be worn except in 
wet weather, as they obstruct the perspiration from 
the pores of the skin. 

The next essential to good health is rest. The body 
must repair the waste which it suffers, or it will soon 
wear away. In this high-pressure age, when so intense 
a strain is put on the nervous system, much sleep is 
required to repair the waste which the body has under- 
gone during the day. The brain needs rest one-third 
of the time, — eight hours of sleep against sixteen hours 
of activity. 

The importance of sleep cannot be over-estimated. 
It is as essential to life and happiness as the air we 
breathe. Some one has said, that of two men or wo- 
men, equally healthy, the one who sleeps the best will 
be the most moral, healthy and efficient. Sleep will 
do much toward curing irritability of temper, peevish- 
ness and uneasiness. It will restore to vigor an over- 
worked brain, and thus prevent insanity. It will build 
up and make strong a weary body. It is the best thing 
to dissipate a fit of the blues, and it is a balm to sorrow. 

Cervantes, in his Don Quixote, makes the jovial 
Sancho Panza to say: " Now, blessings on him that 
first invented sleep ! it covers a man all over, thoughts 



3^ HOW TO KEEP WELL. 

and all, like a cloak; it is meat for the hungry, drink 
for the thirsty, heat for the cold, and cold for the hot.'' 

But, suppose the brain is too excited to sleep, how 
then can this great healer be secured? As sleepless- 
ness is caused by an undue flow of blood to the brain, 
whatever will draw this away will tend to produce 
sleep. Toasting the feet at the fire, or taking a foot 
bath, will draw the blood to the extremities; or, rub- 
bing the body with a rough towel, after taking a warm 
bath, will restore the usual circulation and relieve the 
brain. Edward Everett Hale tells of a plan he tried with 
success, — that of fixing the eyes, while in bed, on a fixed 
object, and looking steadily at it without once winking. 

Pure air and good ventilation are indispensable to 
good health. How many thousands have been carried 
to the grave by fevers and malarial diseases, which 
were ignorantly supposed to be beyond human inter- 
position, but which were directly caused by defective, 
sewerage, or a cellar steaming with rotting vegetables, 
thus filling the house with deadly poison. How often 
do men unthinkingly build their houses in unhealthy 
localities, and thus bring upon themselves and their 
families the fearful penalties of disease. 

It is said that the ancestors of the late Theodore 
Parker, of Boston, on both his father's and mother's 
side, were a healthy and long-lived race, and yet nine 
of his brothers and sisters, including himself, died of 
consumption, besides many in other branches of the 
family of the same generation. He attributed this to 



HOW TO KEEP WELL. 389 

the location of the family homestead in the midst of 
wet ground, and near a peat bed from which dense 
fogs would often arise and envelop the house, and to 
this dampness he attributed their loss of health. 

The seeds of disease carried from festering masses 
of filth in sewer or fog, are silent, stealthy and unseen, 
and they penetrate into the gilded palace as well as the 
lowly hovel, and find lodgment alike in the forms of the 
rich and poor. 

To keep well requires more than a sound body-^— 
there must also be a happy and contented mind. 

Dr. Hall says, that one of the most important pro- 
moters of health is the getting along smoothly in the 
world. No doubt the growing prevalence of diseases 
of the stomach, heart and the nervous system is mainly 
caused by the terrible pace at which we drive ourselves. 
Our days are often full of toil and weariness; our 
nights of sleepless unrest; we are perplexed with the 
present; we see portentous clouds in the future, and so 
life becomes a fitful struggle with care and anxiety. 
No wonder the delicate organism of our body gets out 
of order, with such a fearful wear and tear going on, — 
it is often more of a wonder that a few months of such 
experience do not bring the destruction, which it often 
requires years to accomplish. With a contented mind 
and a sound body, as the result of the observance of 
the laws of health, there will come the reward of a long 
life, blessed with all the rational enjoyments which the 
world can bestow. 



©he Sin of G5oi^y. 




HE Duke of Wellington, when asked his 
secret of winning battles, replied that he had 
no secret, — that he did not know how to win 
a battle, nor did any one know. That all a 
man could do was to look beforehand at all the chances, 
and lay all possible plans; but from the moment the 
battle began, no mortal prudence could insure success; 
a thousand new accidents might spring up and scatter 
his plans to the winds ; and all that man could do was 
to do his best, and trust in God. In other words, he 
meant that it was no use to worry about the result, 
after everything had been done that the utmost caution 
and watchfulness could dictate. The words of the 
famous warrior are applicable to every calling in life. 
One of the sins of the age is this habit of useless worry 
— this attempt to carry not only the burdens of to-day, 
but those of to-morrow. Charles Kingsley, a man who 
performed an immense amount of labor, said, " I know 
of nothing that cripples a man more, and hinders him 
working manfully, than anxiety." Men do not die 
from hard work, so much as from the fret and worry 
which accompanies it. Of course, much thought is 
required for the future, but there is a point beyond 

390 



THE SIN OF WORRY. 39 1 

which thought becomes wasted, and is merged into 
anxiety. 

It is said that one of Cromwell's officers was so dis- 
turbed in mind over the state of the nation, that 
he could not sleep. His servant noticing it, asked 
leave to ask him a question. " Do you not think," 
he inquired, " that God governed the world very 
well before you came into it? " " Undoubtedly," was 
the reply. " And do you not think that he will 
govern it quite as well when you are gone out of it? " 
" Certainly. " " Then, pray sir, excuse me, but do you 
not think that you may trust Him to govern it as long 
as you live in it? " This was such a sensible view of 
the matter that he at once accepted its truth, and soon 
composure and sleep followed. We vex ourselves 
often, because we think everything goes wrong and is 
doomed to destruction; but in spite of our fears, the 
world moves on the same as before, and the seasons 
come and go, bringing seedtime and harvest in their 
appointed times to bless the earth with plenty. 

In the wilds of Colorado there are massive red sand- 
stone rocks which have been fashioned into all sorts of 
grotesque and uncouth shapes by little grains of sand, 
which the fierce winds have hurled against them for 
ages; and so there are characters which are being dis- 
torted into forms of moral repulsiveness by the storms 
of fretfulness and petulance which sweep over them 
day after day. 

How the good influence of many parents over their 



39 2 THE SIN OF WORRY. 

children is destroyed by the constant tone of wony 
which they allow to pervade the home, and make it a 
place to be shunned. How many invalids make life 
more wretched to themselves and all about them, by a 
habit of querulous complaining, indulged in for long 
years; and how many strong minds have been 
dethroned, and their light forever quenched by its 
baneful influence. 

Sir Walter Scott had a capacity for labor which 
was simply marvelous. Volumes came from his pen 
with such rapidity, that he was called " The Wizard 
of the North," and the world might well be astonished 
at the fertility of his genius, and the fruits of his unre- 
mitting industry. But when, in addition to this ardu- 
ous labor, his mind yielded to misgivings and over- 
anxiety, it could not longer endure the strain of the 
double burden, and it gave way, and he became a 
wreck of his former self. 

The poet Southey was a man of unremitting toil, 
and worked as steadily at his literary tasks as the 
artisan at his bench ; and so long as his mind was free 
from care, he did this with ease and comfort to him- 
self. But when, in addition to this, he watched at the 
bedside of his sick wife, and allowed his mind to be- 
come unduly anxious and worried on account of her, 
his brain gave way under the pressure, and he became 
hopelessly insane. 

Hugh Miller, the famous geologist and author, was 
a man of iron constitution, who raised himself by the 



THE SIN OF WORRY. 393 

strength and activity of his mind, from a humble 
position to one of world-wide renown; yet, when he be- 
came harrassed by controversies, his mind, which before 
had worked easily and smoothly, became embittered 
and unbalanced, and in a moment of temporary insanity 
he terminated his life by his own hands. 

The sin of worry is one of the most universal foes to 
happiness. It will mar the fairest face, and spoil the 
sunniest temper, and it is as destructive to everything 
lovable and attractive as it is useless and unneces- 
sary. 

Beware, then, of this evil habit. If care and sorrow 
must come, as they inevitably will, bear them with 
patience and resignation, as part of the necessary dis- 
cipline of life. Form the habit when trials come, of 
being thankful that they are no worse; and instead of 
directing your thoughts continually to yourself, let 
them go out to others who are more unfortunate. In 
this way can the evil spirits of discontent and worry 
be driven away, and peace, harmony and thankfulness 
be restored to the disturbed soul. 




OUf? I?EAYENIiY J?OME. 




^S the weary traveler, at the close of a long 
voyage, hails with delight every token which 
assures him that he is nearing the haven 
of his desire, and sends out loving thoughts 
to the dear ones who are awaiting him there, so does 
the Christian, as he nears his heavenly home after be- 
ing long tossed about by the tempestuous gales of life, 
often feel an unutterable longing to reach its peaceful 
shore, and be at rest with the dear ones who are wait- 
ing to welcome him. 

Such an one gave expression to the yearnings of his 
heart in the following lines: 

"Oh! bring us home at last, 

Thou who didst guide us when our morn was bright; 
Darkness is falling fast, 

Gather thy children home before the night. 

"Oh! bring us home at last, 

The evening mists steal o'er us, damp and chill. 
While autumn's moaning blast 

Sweeps in sad music over vale and hill. 

"Oh! bring us home at last, 

Our Father! Bid our weary wanderings cease, 
Uplift the vail o'ercast 

Between our spirits and the home of peace." 

Said an aged Christian, as he neared the close of 
life: "I am going home as fast as I can, as every 

394 



OUR HEAVENLY HOME. 395 

honest man ought to do after his day's work is over; 
and I bless God that I have a good home to go to." 

Home and Heaven! Words full of love and hope, 
and joy unending. Said one whose eyes already seemed 
to see the ineffable glories of the better land: "Beat 
on, O heart ! and yearn for dying. I have drunk at 
many a fountain, but thirst came again; I have fed at 
many a bounteous table, but hunger returned; I have 
seen many bright and lovely things, but while I gazed 
their luster faded. There is nothing here that can 
give me rest; but when I behold Thee, O God! I shall 
be satisfied." 

No wonder that the heart which contemplates such 
glory finds the brightest joys of earth only a foretaste 
of the joys to come. Words are too feeble to portray, 
and our human nature too finite to grasp, the ineffable 
blessedness of that abode, and so the inspired page can 
only reveal to us glimpses of its splendor by compar- 
ing it with whatever is most costly and beautiful here ; 
and when this has been done, we are still assured that 
the half has not been told, for " Eye hath not seen, 
nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of 
man, the things that God hath prepared for them that 
love him." 

A little heathen child, who had been taught by the 
missionaries of God and heaven, said, as she looked up 
into the starlit sky: " How beautiful will heaven look 
when we get there, if the outside is so fair." 

That immortal dreamer, Bunyan, as he saw Chris- 



39<5 OUR HEAVENLY HOME. 

tian and Hopeful enter the gates of the celestial city, 
thus describes its incomparable glory: " Now, just as 
the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in 
after them, and behold, the city shone like the sun; 
the streets, also, were paved with gold; and in them 
walked many men with crowns on their heads, palms 
in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal." 
What a rapturous vision of the celestial city must 
have appeared to the devout monk, Bernard of Morlaix, 
as he wrote that wondrous poem, " The New Jerusa- 
lem." 

" They stand, those halls of Zion, 

Conjubilant with song, 
And bright with many an angel, 

And all the martyr throng. 
The Prince is ever in them; 

The daylight is serene ; 
The pastures of the blessed 

Are decked in glorious sheen. 

O none can tell thy bulwarks; 

How gloriously they rise; 
O none can tell thy capitals 

Of beautiful device: 
Thy loveliness oppresses 

All human thought and heart: 
And none, O peace, O Zion, 

Can sing thee as thou art." 

Heaven has been described by Dr. Guthrie as "a 
city never built with hands, nor hoary with the years 
of time; a city whose inhabitants no census has num- 
bered; a city through whose street rushes no tide of 
business, nor nodding hearse creeps slowly with its bur- 



OUR HEAVENLY HOME. 397 

den to the tomb ; a city without griefs or graves, with- 
out sins or sorrows, without births or burials, without 
marriages or mournings ; a city which glories in having 
Jesus for its king, angels for its guards, saints for 
citizens; whose walls are salvation, and whose gates 
are praise." There will our immortal powers, 
which are shackled here by the bonds and limitations 
of this earthly life, find scope for all their energies. If 
this were not to be so, then would life be an enigma; 
for who is not conscious at times of longings and aspi- 
rations which we feel can only be satisfied by a wider 
and more glorious sphere of activity. What is it 
which gives the soul strength to exult and triumph in 
the hour of dissolution, if it is not that it discerns near 
at hand its immortal and transcendently happy home. 

Said the ardent Beecher: "I could hardly wish to 
enter heaven did I believe the inhabitants were idly to 
sit by purling streams, fanned by balmy airs. Heaven, 
to be a place of happiness, must be a place of activity. 
Has the far-reaching eye of Newton ceased its profound 
investigations ? Has David hung up his harp, as use- 
less as the dusty arms in Westminster Abbey? Has 
Paul, glowing with God-like enthusiasm, ceased itin- 
erating the universe of God? David and Isaiah will 
sweep nobler and loftier strains in eternity; and the 
minds of the saints, unclogged by cumbersome clay, 
will forever feast on the banquet of rich and glorious 
thought." 

It is the custom of the fishermen's wives on the 



398 OUR HEAVENLY HOME. 

Adriatic coast to gather together at the close of day, 
on the shore, and unite in singing some beautiful hymn, 
— and as the melody floats out over the waters, it is 
heard and answered by the home-bound fishermen; so, 
often, are we cheered on our heavenward way by the 
angelic voices of loved ones who are awaiting us in the 
happy "Isles of the Blessed." 

" When I was a boy," said a noted divine, " I thought 
of heaven as a great, shining" city, with vast walls, and 
domes and spires, and with nobody in it except white 
tenuous angels, who were strangers to me. By and by 
my little brother died; and I thought of a great city 
with walls, and domes, and spires, and a flock of cold, 
unknown angels, and one little fellow that I was 
acquainted with. Then another brother died; and 
there were two that I knew. Then my acquaintances 
began to die; and the flock continually grew. But it 
was not until I had sent one of my little children to his 
grandparent — God — that I began to think that I had 
got a little in myself. A second went; a third went; a 
fourth went; and by that time I had so many acquaint- 
ances in heaven that I did not see any more walls, and 
domes, and spires. I began to think of the residents of 
the celestial city. And now there have so many of my 
acquaintances gone there, that it sometimes seems to 
me that I know more in heaven than I do on earth." 

James Martineau has written on this theme the fol- 
lowing beautiful words : " When in the sanctuary of 
the affections the lights are almost extinguished, — when 



OUR HEAVENLY HOME. 399 

the solitude would be not to depart, but to remain, — 
we may well and naturally feel that it is time to go, 
and our prayer may be speedily withdrawn to the place 
of rest. For now, whatever may be the indistinctness 
of the future, the group of friendship are there, and 
wherever they are is a shelter and a home. However 
strange to us the place may be in which they dwell, if, 
as we cross the deeps of death, their visionary forms 
shall crowd the shore and people the hills of that un- 
visited abode, it will be to us 'a better country, even a 
heavenly.' " 

" The land beyond the sea! 
Oh, how the lapsing years, 
Mid our not unsubmissive tears, 
Have borne, now singly, now in fleets, the biers 

Of those we love, to thee, 

Calm land beyond the sea! 

" The land beyond the sea! 
When will our toil be done? 
Slow-footed years! more swiftly run 
Into the gold of that unsetting sun! 

Homesick we are for thee, 

Calm land beyond the sea!" 




Morks of D. L. Moody. 

By the strenuous cultivation of his gift Mr. Moody has attained to a clear and in 
cfsive style which preachers ought to study; and he has the merit, which many more cul 
rivated men lack, of saying nothing that does not tend to the enforcement of the particu- 
lar truth he is enunciating. He knows how to disencumber his text of all extraneous 
matter, and exhibits his wisdom as a preacher hardly less by what he leaves out than by 
what he includes. Apart from its primary purpose each of these books has a distinct 
value as a lesson on homiletics to ministers and students.— The Christian Leader. 

Bible Characters. 

Prevailing Prayer; What Hinders It. Thirtieth Thousand 

To the Work ! To the Work ! A Trumpet Call. Thir- 

tieth Thousand. 

The Way to God and How to Find It, One Hundred 

and Fifth Thousand. 
Heaven; its Hope; its Inhabitants; its Happiness; its Riches; 

its Reward. One Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Thousand. 
Secret Power; or the Secret of Success in Christian Life 

and Work. Seventy-Second Thousand. 

Twelve Select Sermons. One Hundred and Sixty-Fifth 

Thousand. 

The above are bouud in uniform style and price. Paper covers 30 cents: cloth, 
to cents. Also issued in cloth, beveled edge, and put up in neat box containing the 
seven volumes. Price 0/ set, $4 20. 



Daniel, the Prophet. Tenth Thousand. Paper cover, 20c. 

cloth, 40c. 
The Full Assurance of Faith. Seventh Thousand. Some 

thoughts on Christian confidence. Paper cover, 15c; cloth, 25c. 

The Way and the Word. Sixty-Fifth Thousand. Com- 
prising "Regeneration," and "How to Study the Bible." Cloth, 25c; 
paper, 15 c. 

How to Study the Bible. Forty-Fifth Thousand. Cloth, 15c. 

paper, 10c. 

The Second Coming of Christ. Forty-Fifth Thousand. 

Paper, 10c. 

Inquiry Meetings. By Mr. Moody and Maj. Whittle. 

Paper, 15 c. 

Gospel Booklets. By E>. L. Moody. 12 separate sermons. 

Published in small square form, suitable for distribution, or inclosing in 
letters. 35 cents per dozen, $2.50 per hundred. May be had assorted or 
of any separate tract. 

Any of the above sent postpaid to any address on receipt of price. 

Special rates for distribution made kno7vn on application. 



CHICAGO: niominri U Dot FOll NEW YORK: 

148 A 160 Madison 8t. H^^IQO H. WWII. 12 Biole House, Astor PL 



REFERENCE J^OOKS 



FOR 



BIBLE STUDENTS. 



JAMIESON, FAUSSET & BROWN'S Popular Portable Com- 
mentary. Critical, Practical, Explanatory. Four volumns in neat 
box, fine cloth, $8.00; half bound, $10.00. 
A new edition, containing the complete unabridged notes in clear type on good paper, 

in four handsome 12 mo. volumes of about 1.000 pages each, with copious index, numerous 

illustrations and maps, and a Bible Dictionary compiled from Dr. Wm. Smith's standard 

work. 

Bishop Vincent of Chautauqua fame says : " The best condensed commentary on the 

whole Bible is Jamieson, Fausset & Brown." 

CRU DEN'S UNABRIDGED CONCORDANCE TO THE 
HOLY SCRIPTURES. With life of the author. 864 pp., 8vo., 
cloth (net), $1.00; half roan, sprinkled edges (net), 2.00; half roan, 
full gilt edges (net), $2.50. 

SMITH'S BIBLE DICTIONARY, comprising its Antiquities, Biog- 
raphy, Geography and Natural History, with numerous maps and illus- 
trations. Edited and condensed from his great work by William 
Smith, LL. D. 776 pages, 8vo, many illustrations, cloth, $1.50. 

THE BIBLE TEXT CYCLOPEDIA. A complete classification of 
Scripture Texts in the form of an alphabetical list of subjects. By 
Rev. James Inglis. Large 8vo, 524 pages, cloth, $1.75. 

The plan is much the same as the " Bible Text Book" with the valuable additional 
help in that the texts referred to are quoted in full. Thus the student is saved the time and 
labor of turning to numerous passages, which, when found, may not be pertinent to the 
subject he has in hand. 

THE TREASURY OF SCRIPTURE KNOWLEDGE; consist- 
ing of 500,000 scripture references and parallel passages, with numer- 
ous notes. 8vo, 778 pages, cloth, $2.00. 
A single examination of this remarkable compilation of references will convince the 

reader of the fact that " the Bible is its own best interpreter." 

THE WORKS OF FLAVIUS JOSEPHUS, translated by William 
Whiston, A. M., with Life, Portrait, Notes and Index. A new cheap 
edition in clear type. Large 8vo, 684 pages, cloth, $2.00. 

100.000 SYNONYMS AND ANTONYMS. By Rt. Rev. Samuel 
Fallows, A. M., D. D. 512 pages, cloth, $1.00. 

A complete Dictionary of synonyms and words of opposite meanings, with an appen- 
dix of Briticisms, Americanisms, Colloquialisms, Homonims, Homophonous words, Foreign 
Phrases, etc., etc. 

" This is one of the best books of its kind we have seen, and probably there is nothing 
published in the country that is equal to it."— Y. M. C. A. Watchman. 



NEWYORK: Tl g/H I H(5 H F?SUgl 1 CHICAGO: 

12 Bible House, A stor PL [ , ^ IUI «/V J 1 • l \ <> v "&l I 148 & 150 Madison St 



New Books for ~ 

~ Thinking Minds. 

♦» ♦ •♦ 

WHAT ARE WE TO BELIEVE ? or, The Testimony of Ful- 
filled Prophecy. By Rev. John Urquhart. i6mo., 230 pages, 

cloth, 75 cents. 

_ " This book, so small in bulk but so large in thought, sets forth a great mass of such tes- 
timony in lines so clear and powerful that we pity the man who could read it without 
amazement and awe. It is the very book to put into the hands of an intelligent Agnostic." 
— The Christian, London. 

MANY INFALLIBLE PROOFS. By Rev. Arthur T. Pierson, 
D. D. 317 pp. i2mo. Cloth, $1.00, paper, 35 cents. 

" It is not an exercise in mental gymnastics, but an earnest inquiry after the truth." — 
Daily Telegram, Troy, N. Y. 

" He does not believe that the primary end of the Bible is to teach science ; but he 
argues with force and full conviction that nothing in the Bible has been shaken by scientific 
research." — Independent. 

HOW I REACHED THE MASSES ; Together with twenty-two 
lectures delivered in the Birmingham Town Hall on Sunday after- 
noons. By Rev. Charles Leach, F. G. S. i6mo., cloth, $1.00. 

There is much of very welcome good sense and practical illustration in these addresses. 
Pithy and pointed in admonishment, and wholesome in their didactic tone, they ought to 
exercise a good influence. 

ENDLESS BEING; or, Man Made for Eternity. By Rev. J. L. 
Barlow. Introduction by the Rev. P. S. Henson, D. D. Cloth, 
i6mo., 165 pages, 75 cents. 

An unanswerable work ; meeting the so-called annihilation and kindred theories most 
satisfactorily. The author held for years these errors, and writes as one fully conversant 
with the ground he covers. It is a work which should be widely circulated, 

PAPERS ON PREACHING. By the Right Rev. Bishop Baldwin, 
Rev. Principal Rainy, D. D., Rev. J. R. Vernon, M. A., and others. 
Crown, 8vo, cloth, 75 cents. 
" Preachers of all denominations will do well to read these practical and instructive 

disquisitions. The essay on " Expression in Preaching " is especially good. — Christian. 

THE SABBATH; its Permanence, Promise, and Defence. 
By Rev. W. W. Everts, D. D. i2mo., 278 pages, cloth, $1.00. 

No phase of the Sabbath question is left undiscussed, while every topic is treated in the 
briefest manner, and every touch of light shows the hand of a master. 

" An incisive and effective discussion of the subject." — N. Y. Observer. 

" A thoughtful Christian defence of that divine institution." — Christian Advocate. 

QUESTIONS OF THE AGES. By Rev. Moses Smith. 
Cloth i2mo, 132 pages, 75 cents. 

What is the Almighty ? Is there Common Sense in Religion f 

What is man ? What is Faith ? 

What is the Trinity ? Is there a Larger Hope ? 

Which zs the Great Commandment . Is Life Worth Living? 

What Mean these Stones? 
"Discusses certain of the deep things of the Gospel in such a wise and suggestive 
fashion that they are helpful. One, answers negatively and conclusively the question, Is 
there a larger hope ? ' — The Congregationalist. 



12 Bible House, Astor PI. { '6/1111}^ Jl. rj8U0ll 148 & 150 Madison St. 



Jf?e "JNlorttyfield BooKs." 



COLLEGE STUDENTS AT NORTHFIELD; or, A College of 

Colleges, No. 2. Conducted during July, 1888: Containing addresses 
by Mr. D. L. Moody, Rev. J. Hudson Taylor, M. D., Bishop Hendrix, 
Rev. Alex. McKenzie, D.D., Rev. Henry Clay Trumbull, D. D., Prof. 
W. B. Harper, and others. 

The " Practical Talks " as given in report of last year's gathering, the demand foi 
which has called for a seventh edition, has induced us to publish an account of this year's 
proceedings, none the less " practical," and we feel sure will be as fully appreciated. 

12mo, 296 Pages, Cloth, $1.00 net. 

Dr. A . T. Pierson writes : " Admirable book. I deem it one of the best of all the 
practical helps issued by the press." 

Dr. Joseph Cook.— " It is well edited, well printed, and well inspired from on High. 
Is full of a Holy Fire of spiritual zeal, which I hope to see spread far and wide." 

President M. E. Gates, of Rutgers College, writes: "The influence which has 
gone out on the College Life of this country, from the summer meetings at Northfield, is so 
potent for good, that I welcome the extension and perpetuation of that influence through 
this book." 

SEVENTH THOUSAND. 

A COLLEGE OF COLLEGES; or, Practical Talks to College 

Students. Given in July, 1887, by Prof. Henry Drummond, F.R.S.S., 
Rev. J. A. Broadus, D.D., Prof. Townsend, Rev. A. T. Pierson.D.D., 
Mr. D. L. Moody, and others. 

12mo, 288 Pages, Cloth, $1.00 net. 

" Of signal value." — Chautauqua Herald. 

" We commend this volume very cordially." — Presbyterian Witness. 
" The volume closes with a chapter of ' nuggets ' from Northfield, which is no excep- 
tion, however, as the other chapters are equally rich in ' nuggets.' " — The Independent. 

D. L. MOODY AT HOME. His Home and Home Work. 

Embracing a description of the educational institutions established at 
Northfield, Mass., together with an account of the various noted gath- 
erings of Christian workers at the place, and the most helpful and sug- 
gestive lectures, and the best thoughts there exchanged ; adding, also, 
many helpful and practical hints. 

12mo, 288 Pages, Cloth, Eight Illustrations, $1.00. 

The New York Independent says: " There is nothing in the career of this remark- 
able man more striking than his work at Northfield." 

The New York Evangelist spoke most truly when it said : " The public is unaware 
f Mr. Moody's enormous investments at Northfield, that will pay him abundant interest 
ung after he reaches heaven." 



NEWYORK: Fleming H PeU£ll CHICAGO: 

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MISSIONARY PUBLICATIONS 



REPORT OF THE CENTENARY CONFERENCE on the 
Protestant Missions of the World. Held in London, June, 1888. 
Edited by the Rev. James Johnston, F. S. S., Secretary of the Con- 
ference. Two large 8vo. vols., 1200 pages, $2.00 net per set. 

An important feature in this report, lack of which has prejudiced many against report3 
in general, is the special care taken by the Editor, who has succeeded in making the work 
an interesting and accurate reproduction of the most important accumulation of facts from 
the Mission Fields of the World, as given by the representatives of all the Evangelical 
Societies of Christendom. 

And another: The exceptionally complete and helpful indexing of the entire work in 
such a thorough manner as to make it of the greatest value as a Reference Encyclopedia on 
mission topics for years to come. 

THE MISSIONARY YEAR BOOK FOR 1880-90. Containing 
Historical and Statistical accounts of the Principle Protestant Missionary 
Societies in America, Great Britain and the Continent of Europe. 

The American edition, edited by Rev. J. T. Gracev, D.D., of Buffalo, embraces 
about 450 pages, one- fourth being devoted to the work of American Societies, and will 
contain Maps of India, China Japan, Burmah, and Siam ; also a language Map of India 
and comparative diagrams illustrating areas, population and progress of Mission work. 
This compilation will be the best presentation of the work of the American Societies in 
Pagan Lands that has yet been given to the public. The book is strongly recommended by 
Rev. Jas. Johnston, F.S.S., as a companion volume to the Report of the Century Con- 
ference on Missions. Cloth, 12mo. $1.25. 

GARENGANZE : or, Seven Years' Pioneer Missionary Work 
in Central Africa. By Fred. S. Arnot, with introduction by Rev. 
A. T. Pierson, D.D. Twenty Illustrations and an original Map. 

The author's two trips across Africa, entirely unarmed and unattended except by the 
local and constantly changing carriers, and in such marked contrast with many modern ad- 
venturers, strongly impress one to ask if another Livingstone has not appeared among us. 
Traversing where no white man had ever been seen before ana meeting kings and chiefs 
accustomed only to absolute power, he demanded and received attention in the name of his 
God. Cloth 8vo, 290 pages, §1.23. 

IN THE FAR EAST : China Illustrated. Letters from Gerald- 
ine Guinness. Edited by her sister, w : th Introduction by Rev. A. J. 
Gordon, D. D. A characteristic Chinese cover. Cioth 4to, 138 pages, 
$1.00. 

CONTEXTS. 

Ten Days on a Chinese Canal. 
At Home in our Chinese " Haddon Hall." 
By Wheelbarrow ro Antong. 
Life on a Chinese Farm. 
A Visit to the " Shun " City. 
Blessing — and Need of Blessing — 
In the Far Eas.;. 



"Good-Bye!" 

Second Class. 

On the Way to China. 

Hong-Kong and Shanghai. 

First days in the Flowery Land 

Opium Suicides amongst Women. 



Rev. C. H. Spurgeon, writes : 

" I have greatly enjoyed ' In the Far East.' God blessing it, the book should send 
armies of believers to invade the Flowry Land." 

The author is to be congratulated fo. the taste and beauty with which these letters 
are now put into permanent form. A full page colored map of China enhances this ad- 
mirable gift book. 



NEWYORK: Cl^minrtW \$&U&\\ CHICAGO: 

12 Bible House, Astor PI. [ ■'Will 1/V^ Jl . ly&UtCl I 148 & 150 Madison St. 



Popular Missionary Biographies. 

i2mo, 1 60 pages. Fully illustrated; cloth extra, 75 cents each. 



Rev. C. H. Spurgeon, 
writes : 

" Crowded with facts 
that both interest and in- 
spire, we can conceive of 
no better plan to spread 
the Missionary spirit than 
the multiplying of such 
biographies; and we 
would specially commend 
this series to those who 
have the management of 
libraries and selection of 
prizes in our Sunday 
Schools." 




From The Missionary 
Herald : 

"We commended this 
series in our last issue, 
and a further examina- 
tion leads us to renew our 
commendation, and to 
urge the placing of this 
series of missionary books 
in ail our Sabbath-school 
libraries. 

These books are hand- 
somely printed and bound 
and are beautifully illus- 
trated, and we are confi- 
dent that they will prove 
attractive to all young 
people." 



SAMUEL CROWTHER, the Slave Boy who became Bishop of 

the Niger. By Jesse Page, author of " Bishop Patterson." 
THOMAS J. COMBER, Missionary Pioneer to the Congo. By 

Rev. J. B. Myers, Association Secretary Baptist Missionary Society. 
BISHOP PATTESON, the Martyr of Melanesia. By Jesse Page. 
GRIFFITH JOHN, Founder of the Hankow Mission, Central 

China. By Wm. Robson, of the London Missionary Society. 
ROBERT MORRISON, the Pioneer of Chinese Missions. By 

Wm. J. Townsend, Sec. Methodist New Connexion Missionary Soc'y. 
ROBERT MOFFAT, the Missionary Hero of Kuruman. By David 

J. Deane, author of " Martin Luther, the Reformer," etc. 
WILLIAM CAREY, the Shoemaker who became a Missionary. 

By Rev. J. B. Myers, Association Secretary Baptist Missionary Society. 
JAMES CHALMERS, Missionary and Explorer of Rarotonga 

and New Guinea. Bv Wm. Robson, of the London Missionary Soc'y. 
MISSIONARY LADIES IN FOREIGN LANDS. By Mrs. E. R. 

Pilman, author of " Heroines of the Mission Fields," etc. 
JAMES CALVERT ; or, From Dark to Dawn in Fiji. 
JOHN WILLIAMS, the Martyr of Erromanga. By Rev. James 

J. Ellis. 



UNIFORM WITH THE ABOVE. 



JOHN BRIGHT, the Man of the People. By Jesse Page, author of 

" Bishop Patteson," " Samuel Crowther," etc. 
HENRY M. STANLEY, the African Explorer. By Arthur Monte- 

fiore, F.R.G.S. Brought down to 1889. 
BAINBRIDGE, EDWIN, Memoirs of. 

The subject of this memoir is the young English tourist who met his death at the 
dreadful volcanic eruption of Tarawera, New Zealand, on the 10th of June, 1886. 



JEL2ZL* Fleming. I^euell 



CHICAGO: 
148 & 150 Madison St. 



odHAND BOOKS FOR BIBLE STUDENTS^ 

■»» ♦ «+> 

THE LIFE OF CHRIST. Rev. Jas. Stalker, M. A. A new 
edition, with introduction by Rev. Geo. C. Lqrimer, D. D. i2mo. 
cloth, 166 pages, 60 cents. 

This work is in truth "Multum in Parvo" containing within small compass a vast 
amount of most helpful teaching, so admirably arranged that the reader gathers with re- 
markable definiteness the whole revealed record of the life work of our Lord in a nutshell 
of space and with a minimum of study. 

THE LIFE OF ST. PAUL. Ey Rev. Jas. Stalker, M. A. i2mo. 

cloth, 184 pages, 60 cents. 

As admirable a work as the exceedingly popular volume by this author on " The Life 
of Christ." 

"An exceedingly compact life of the Apostle to the Gentiles. It is bristling with 
information, and is brief, yet clear. As an outline of Paul's life it cannot be surpassed." — 
N. Y. Christian Inquirer. 

THE BIBLE STUDENTS' HANDBOOK. i2mo cloth, 288 pages, 

50 cents. 

One of those helpful works, worth its price, multiplied by several scores. It con- 
tains an introduction to the study of the Scriptures, with a brief account of the books of 
the Bible, their writers, etc., also a synopsis of the life and work of our Lord, and complete 
history of the manners and customs of the times, etc. 

THE TOPICAL TEXT BOOK. i6mo. cloth, 292 pages, 60 cents. 

A remarkably complete and helpful Scripture text book for the topical study of the 
Bible. Useful in preparing Bible readings, addresses, etc. 

THE BIBLE REMEMBRANCER. 24mo. cloth, 198 pages, 50 cts. 

A complete analyses of the Bible is here given, in small compass, in addition to a 
large amount of valuable Biblical information, and twelve colored maps. 

BIBLE LESSONS ON JOSHUA AND JUDGES. By Rev. J. 
Gurney Hoare, M. A. i6mo cloth, 124 pages, 50 cents. 

FIFTY-TWO LESSONS ON (1) The Works of Our Lord ; (2) Claims 
of Our Lord. Forming a year's course of instruction for Bible classes, 
Sunday schools and lectures. By Flavel S. Cook, M. A., D. D. 
i6mo. cloth, 104 pages, 50 cents. 

FIFTY-TWO LESSONS ON (1) The Names and Titles of Our 
Lord ; (2) Prophesies Concerning Our Lord and their Fulfillment. 
By Flavel S. Cook, M. A., D. D. i6mo. cloth, 104 pages, 50 cents. 

Extremely full in the matter of reference and explanation, and likely to make the 
user "search the Scriptures." 

OUTLINE OF THE BOOKS OF THE BIBLE. By Rev. J. H. 
Brookes, D. D. Invaluable to the young student of the Bible as a 
" First Lesson " in the study of the Book. 180 pages. Cloth, 50 cents; 
paper covers, 25 cents. 

CHRIST AND THE SCRIPTURES. By Rev. Adolph Sapher. 
i6mo. cloth, 160 pages, 75 cents. 

To all disciples of Christ this work commends itself at once by its grasp of truth, 
its insight, the life in it, and its spiritual force. — Christian Work. 



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SUGGESTIVE BOOKS - - 

- - for BIBLE READERS. 



NEW NOTES FOR BIBLE READINGS. By the late S. R. Briggs, 
with brief Memoir of the author by Rev. Jas. H. Brookes, D. D. f 
Crown 8vo, cloth, $ 1.00 ; flexible, 75 cents. 

" New Notes" is not a reprint, and contains Bible Readings to be found in no other 
similar work, and. it is confidently believed, will be found more carefully prepared, and 
therefore more helpful and suggestive. 

Everyone of the 60,000 readers of " Notes and Suggestions for Bible Readings " will 
welcome this entirely new collection containing selections from D. L. Moody, Major Whittle, 
J. H. Brookes, D. D., Prof. W. G. Moorehead, Rev. E. P. Marvin, Jno. Currie, Rev. W. J. 
Erdman, Rev. F. E. Marsh, Dr. L. W. Munhall, etc. 

NOTES AND SUGGESTIONS FOR BIBLE READINGS. By 

S. R. Briggs and J. H. Elliott. 

Containing, in addition to twelve introductory chapters on plans and method of Bible 
study and Bible readings, over six hundred outlines of Bible readings, by many of the 
most eminent Bible students of the day. Crown 8vo, 262 pp. Cloth, library style, $1-00; 
flexible cloth, .75 ; paper covers, .50. 

THE OPEN SECRET ; or, The Bible Explaining Itself. A series 
of intensely practical Bible readings. By Hannah Whitall Smith. 
320 pp. Fine cloth, $1.00. 

That the author of this work has a faculty of presenting the " Secret Things " that are 
revealed in the Word of God is apparent to all who have read the exceedingly popular work, 
"The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life." 

BIBLE BRIEFS ; or, Outline Themes for Scripture Students. By 

G. C. & E. A. Needham. i6mo., 224 pages, cloth, $1.00. 

The plan of these expositions is suggestive rather than exhaustive, and these suggestions 
are designed to aid Evangelists at home and missionaries abroad, Bible School Teachers, and 
Christian Association Secretaries and Workers. 

BIBLE HELPS FOR BUSY MEN. By A. C. P. Coote. 

Contains over 200 Scripture subjects, clearly worked out and printed in good legible 
type, with an alphabetical index. 140 pages, 16mo.; paper, 40c; cloth flex., 60c. 
" Likely to be of use to overworked brethren." — C. H. Spurgeon. 
" Given in a clear and remarkably telling form."— Christian Leader. 

RUTH, THE MOABITESS ; or Gleaning in the Book of Ruth. 

By Henry Moorhouse. i6mo., paper covers, 20c. ; cloth, 40c. 
A characteristic series of Bible readings, full of suggestion and instruction. 

BIBLE READINGS. By Henry Moorhouse. i6mo., paper covers, 
30 cents ; cloth, 60 cents. 
A series by one pre-eminently the man of one book, an incessant, intense, prayerful 
student of the Bible. 

SYMBOLS AND SYSTEMS IN BIBLE READINGS. 

Rev. W. F. Crafts. 64 pages and cover, 25 cents. 

Giving a plan of Bible reading, with fifty verses definitely assigned for each day, the 
Bible being arranged in the order of its events. The entire symbolism of the Bible ex- 
plained concisely and cleanly. • 



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